<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>El Serpiente y El Halcón by BetaCobra</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566492">El Serpiente y El Halcón</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetaCobra/pseuds/BetaCobra'>BetaCobra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cobra Kai (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableist Language, Aftermath of Violence, Anger Management, Angst, Break Up, Bromance to Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Depression, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growth, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Injury Recovery, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Break Up, Post-Season/Series 03, Rehabilitation, Responsibility, Revenge, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sexist Language, Suggestive Themes, Team Bonding, Teenage Drama, Tournaments, Toxic Masculinity, Trauma, Trust Issues, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:41:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>131,603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetaCobra/pseuds/BetaCobra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The students of the combined Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang dojos train for the All-Valley Tournament, while the teaching styles of their respective Senseis clash. Miguel tries to navigate romance while also getting back into top fighting shape. And as Hawk struggles to rehabilitate himself after leaving Cobra Kai, he must also face feelings of a different sort.</p><p>A Post-Season 03 Fic</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Demetri &amp; Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz, Miguel Diaz &amp; Samantha LaRusso, Miguel Diaz/Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>374</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meditation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso were arguing. Again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, a dozen students comprising the two dojos of their respective quarreling karate teachers lounged in boredom in the backyard of the Miyagi-Do dojo. Bert held his glasses up to the sun to check for smudges, while Nathaniel cleaned out his ear with his pinky finger beside him, sending flecks of earwax in Bert’s direction. Mitch and Chris were getting into an impassioned debate about professional wrestling that sounded like serious business.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk sighed and leaned back on his elbows in the grass, squinting from the sunlight beaming down on them. The alienness of the serene surroundings still hadn’t worn off yet. Miyagi-Do definitely had a completely different feel than the sterile atmosphere of a strip mall dojo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">More than once, he’d caught his eyes drifting around, looking for any sign of his vandalism from earlier in the summer. Maybe a piece of forgotten graffiti, or a piece of trash not picked up. But he found none. Miyagi-Do had long-since cleaned up the damage. Like it had never happened at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shifting in discomfort, Hawk raised an eyebrow at the lanky boy next to him; the one with his face glued to his phone. “So, is practice always this intense around here?” Hawk asked him, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Only since you guys showed up,” Demetri delivered right back without missing a beat or lifting his eyes from his phone. “Usually we’d be through our katas by now, but it seems like your Sensei can’t go five minutes without finding something to whinge about.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smirked and opened his mouth to make a sharp comment about Demetri knowing more about incessant whinging than anybody else on the planet. But he caught himself, swallowing the words back down his throat before they could come out in an unnecessarily mean way. It had been a reflex. How quickly had he grown accustomed to that?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He shifted in his spot again. “Well, Miyagi-Do’s style is really different than Cobra Kai’s,” he said instead. Then, catching himself, he amended, “I mean Eagle Fang’s.” Hawk’s eyebrows creased. He still wasn’t used to the change, both the name of Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo and that he was part of it now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"That much has been obvious from the start,” quipped Demetri, typing away with his thumbs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Closing his mouth so he didn’t say anything else, Hawk let his eyes wander around, this time to the front of the group. His gaze settled on the backs of Miguel’s and Sam’s heads. The two of them were leaning in close to one another, saying something he couldn’t hear with Mitch and Chris arguing behind him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk did catch the way Sam laughed, he saw how she slid her hand between them to wrap her fingers over Miguel’s. Seeing that, the corner of Hawk’s mouth twitched, and his eyebrows knitted closer together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You up for that In-N-Out after practice?” asked Miguel, curling his toes inside his sneakers in excitement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s smile lit up her whole face while she extended her left leg to stretch the muscles out. Her smile made Miguel want to melt into a puddle. “I’m not getting you addicted to that place, am I?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel chuckled, shrugging like he’d been found out. One drive-thru trip in Sam’s car before heading to practice the previous weekend, and now he wanted to go practically every day. The two were permanently associated together in his brain now, along with octopi. “What can I say? Their fries are the bomb, you were right. Oh, and those shakes! Can’t forget the shakes. You wanna split a large chocolate one? My treat.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“As if, I’m getting my own large shake,” Sam joked back, swapping to her right leg to stretch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel bit his bottom lip for a second, which morphed into a cheesy grin. Laying on what he hoped were the biggest puppy dog eyes he could manage, he playfully said, “So, is this a date then? Or not a date?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Definitely a date,” affirmed Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Excellent!” exclaimed Miguel, raising his free fist in a cheer. Only to immediately cringe when he heard the others around them cut off their conversations and go quiet. Looking over his shoulder, the other guys had their eyes on him now. Nate had his pinky stuck in his ear and stared at him, while Bert had a suggestive smirk on his face. Chris’s brows were furrowed deep, while Mitch shot him a thumb’s up. Hawk looked peeved for some reason, and Demetri had his eyes glued to his phone, seemingly the only one who hadn’t heard him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Lowering his fist back down fast, Miguel turned back around and cleared his throat. “Um, I mean, y’know, that’s great,” he stammered, trying to recover from looking like the most desperate guy on the planet. He was trying way too hard.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Thankfully, Sam let it go. “Alright so you pay and I drive, how’s that sound?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Unable to help himself, Miguel emphasized, “Sounds like a date.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They were pulled from their fun conversation when Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso came walking towards the group. With their contorted faces and gesticulating hands, they still looked as heated as before, and Miguel could hear them arguing the entire way up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why don’t you actually teach them something that’s useful for a change?” demanded Sensei Lawrence. “We’re here to get them ready for the All-Valley. This is a karate dojo, not a yoga class.” His eyes scanned the garden. “Well, not much of a karate dojo, really.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Back off, Johnny,” warned Mr. LaRusso, near close to shoving a finger against his chest. “Meditation is going to teach them about inner focus, and it’ll help with their breathing exercises. All martial arts focus on that. Surely you’ve taught your kids breathing exercises, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence hesitated for a second. “My kids know how to breathe already.” He looked at Miguel and said, “Diaz, tell Mr. LaRusso here how I chucked that asthma shit against the wall and that got you breathing just fine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel winced into his shoulders a bit. “Um, well, actually Sensei—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With a sigh, Mr. LaRusso crossed his arms and cut in, saying, “Listen, <em>Sensei Lawrence</em>, we agreed we would be teaching both styles here. And Miyagi-Do style karate is just as mental as it is physical. So why don’t you set the example and join me in showing these kids the proper meditation technique, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, go ahead and waste their time with that hippy shit, I’ll sit this one out,” mumbled Sensei Lawrence, rolling his eyes and making his way over to the water cooler available for the students. Reaching in, he dug through the ice and pulled out the can of Coors he’d buried in there earlier. Cracking it open, he strolled up the wooden walkway to the house, calling out, “Come get me when we start singing Kumbaya.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Watching him leave, Miguel’s cheeks heated up; and he knew he couldn’t blame that on the sunlight. He ran a hand through the back of his hair in embarrassment. Even if Sensei disagreed with the lesson, did he have to make such a scene?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso’s jaw looked like it could crack a nut, it was clenched so tight. “Alright,” he strained, “while Sensei Lawrence takes a <em>break</em>, why don’t we get started?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam glanced at Miguel, tilting her head, sending her long braided falling over her shoulder. “Why can’t your Sensei at least give our methods a fair shot?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pulled his legs into a cross-sitting position, resting his hands on his knees. “He needs a little time to adjust to this. We knew this sort of thing would happen,” he offered in Sensei Lawrence’s defense, his mouth wavering into a frown. And, after a moment’s hesitation, he added, “And if we’re being fair, ever since we combined our groups, your dad has kinda been calling most of the shots around here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was true, but he ought to have known that was the wrong thing to say. Sam’s expression tightened and all traces are her previous smile vanished when she pressed her lips together. “My dad’s been working really hard to accommodate everyone,” she said in return. “And he’s not used to a class this big. It’s not usually how things are done with Miyagi-style karate. He’s just trying to help get everyone on the same page, to get us to work as a group.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam, I—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s just do the exercise,” Sam cut in, looking straight ahead at her father.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel could feel his muscles in his neck tense from that whiplash. He wanted to say more but decided to drop it for the time being. “Yeah. Okay.” He hadn’t meant to start an argument, that was for sure. But when her father was the teacher of Miyagi-Do, and his methods were so wildly different than Sensei Lawrence’s, it was inevitable that they wouldn’t always see eye-to-eye; that was why the teams had the Sensei Dispute Resolution Protocol, after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hadn’t meant his criticism as an insult to Mr. LaRusso though. He’d been getting to really like Mr. LaRusso, in fact. Sam had to know that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arching a skeptical eyebrow on his forehead, Hawk let out an aggravated sigh as he sat up. Demetri clapping his shoulder warmly didn’t make him anymore excited about the exercise than he’d been when Mr. LaRusso first announced it. The whole thing still sounded lame.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Give it a try,” suggested Demetri, probably seeing the skepticism clear across his face as his free hand slipped his cellphone back into his pant’s pocket.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk gave a single nod, still not into it. “Yeah,” he mumbled, fidgeting his fingers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That healthy dose of inner peace stuff again. Hawk reminded himself to try and be more open-minded, even though nothing about this felt like it could make him stronger. But at least he was back with his friends again, right? That was what mattered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso collected himself, sitting down in front of the group as they all got ready. “Alright, everyone, relax, close your eyes. And now start taking deep, steady breaths.” He paused a moment to lead by example, showing them what to do. He took one, two, three deep breaths, letting them out steadily. “That’s it, keep your backs straight, heads up, and shoulders relaxed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With a skeptical twist of his mouth, Hawk looked around at the teams. Bert was taking advantage of Nathaniel’s eyes being closed to take a long strand of grass and run it along the back of his neck, pulling back whenever Nate reached his hand back to smack at what he probably thought was a mosquito.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch actually did at least appear to be giving it a try, cracking open his eyes every few seconds to look at Chris and see if he was doing it right, or if there was something more to this that he didn’t understand the point of.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk couldn’t see Miguel’s expression, only the back of his head. He wondered what his friend was making of all this tranquility bullshit. Or, judging by the way he leaned in closer to Sam, Hawk wondered if Miguel was really paying any attention to the lesson at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Oh well. Good for him, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Everyone do it again with me,” instructed Mr. LaRusso. “That’s right, Mitch, shoulders relaxed. Take a deep breath in….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his eyes before closing them, Hawk decided to put in the bare minimum effort of participating. He took in a heavy breath and let it out when Mr. LaRusso told them to. Then he did it again, sounding more like a sigh when it escaped his mouth. He followed along for the third and fourth times, as well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He could practically feel Demetri breathing beside him. He heard him as all their breathings synchronized. In and out. In and out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He got so relaxed, his mind started conjuring up memories like a daydream. Blue, purple, pink lights. He saw Demetri on the ground. He was kneeling on top of him, contorting Demetri’s arm behind his back. No, it wasn’t Demetri. It was Robby. Miguel had Robby’s arm gripped. He let him go. But Hawk wouldn’t. He wouldn’t make that same mistake. He scowled, tightening his grip around Demetri’s arm before giving it a sharp twist….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes snapped open as he let out a sharp breath. Blinking rapidly, he gave a quick glance beside him at Demetri, who released his breath at the same time as they were all instructed to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, great job,” praised Mr. LaRusso. “Let’s take a ten minute water break, and then we’ll get ready for some warm ups.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, looks you kids sure worked up a real sweat,” called out Sensei Lawrence while he strolled down the walkway and behind Mr. LaRusso. “Maybe we need to hose all of you guys off, that was some intense practicing. I bet you all smell like a bunch of pigs right now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Mr. LaRusso turned around to start arguing with Sensei Lawrence again, Miguel stood up off the ground and walked over to the cool to grab a bottle of water. He’d taken a couple of gulps out of it when he felt a light touch on his arm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” said Sam. She had a shy smile on her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel gave a little smile back. “Hey.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sorry for getting a little snappy back there,” Sam apologized, wrapping her hands around her elbows.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking his head, Miguel told her, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Sam had that look on her face that said she was worried about it. “Things just haven’t been going as smoothly as I’d hoped they would between our groups. Sometimes it really does hit me that our styles of karate are so <em>different</em>, y’know?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” said Miguel, taking another sip of his water. He didn’t think things were going all that bad. It could’ve been much worse. Considering all the tension that had existed between their dojos, Miguel didn’t know how things could possibly be running smoother than they currently were.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For sure, he did prefer Sensei Lawrence’s offense-based form of karate, but that didn’t mean there was nothing Eagle Fang couldn’t learn from Miyagi-Do. Or vice-versa. Both teams had a lot to offer the other if both were willing. “Like, this meditation exercise,” continued Miguel. “That was…interesting. Very relaxing. Gives you a real chance to clear your head.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That made Sam’s smile widen. “I’m glad you’re being open-minded about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Of course,” replied Miguel. “And I know there’s gonna be some Eagle Fang exercises you guys are gonna got nuts for. They’re super fun, they really get you pumped up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam gave a little nod. It looked like a hesitated one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But when she opened her mouth to say something, Mitch cut in between the two of them to reach into the water cooler. “Oh totally,” he agreed, nodding at Miguel. “Like that thing when Sensei throws the baseball at our heads to teach us how to dodge better. Let’s see these Miyagi-Dos beat us at that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Man, you guys have the weirdest ideas about what fun is,” said Chris, shaking his head while he reached down to grab his own bottle of water.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them continued debating the merits of having a ball chucked at their heads as a means of testing agility while they wandered over to the stone ornament to enjoy the rest of their break. Miguel gave Sam a look and they both couldn’t contain their grins.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Remember, two dojos are better than one, right?” Miguel reminded her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam nodded again, firmer this time. “Right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She reached down to his sides and wrapped her hands around his. Miguel leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, giving her a quick kiss. The one good thing about her father having already seen them all but make out before was that, at last, they didn’t have to hide this from Mr. LaRusso, or anybody else, anymore.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Crossing his arms over his chest, Hawk leaned against the tree, tightening his brows to the bridge of his nose. He watched Miguel and Sam break their kiss, pressing his mouth in a thin line when Miguel wrapped his arm over her shoulders and led them across the little wooden bridge.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What’s that look for?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk almost started, glancing next to him to see Demetri had come up to stand by his side. “What look?” he asked defensively.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking his cellphone out of his pocket, Demetri retorted, “Listen, I’ve been on the receiving end of your acidic glares over the past half-year, so I know plenty by now when you’re pissed about something. So why don’t we just cut to the chase? What? You’re still mad because Miguel’s dating a member of Miyagi-Do?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” snipped Hawk, rolling his shoulder back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While his thumbs went flying across the virtual keyboard, Demetri said, “That’s good. Because the whole deal of you leaving Cobra Kai was that you’d also leave the worst trappings of tribalism behind you for good, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes fell on Demetri’s right arm and lingered there for a moment. He felt something lodge in his chest. “Yeah.” His eyes traveled up to Demetri’s phone in his hands. Trying to get the attention off himself, he asked, “Who’s been blowing up your phone?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yasmine,” answered Demetri, sending another text. “We were trying to coordinate on our science paper together, but, well, let’s just say she’s more interested in biology than ecology at the moment, if you catch my drift.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk snorted. “Nice.” He still couldn’t believe Demetri had managed to score with Yasmine, of all people. But apparently they were still making it work, in their own way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But as I was saying,” continued Demetri, defeating the purpose of Hawk trying to change the subject, “if you don’t have any problems now with cross-dojo dating, then why are you sending death glares in Miguel’s direction? Please don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed a thing for Sam.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk felt his cheeks heat up, and his eyes darted away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A smirk curled up the side of Demetri’s face. “Oh no, get out of here. Really? Listen, you’re my binary brother, so I’m just gonna tell you right now that is never gonna happen. You and I might be on the path of repairing the damage caused by your Cobra Kai crusade, but Sam over there? She’s not really your biggest fan. I mean, maybe given more time she’ll at least come around to liking you, but you two together? Not gonna happen, my man.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t have a thing for Sam,” Hawk argued, feeling the warm blood under his skin travel from his cheeks all the way to his ears. He hoped his face wasn’t beet-red.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah right,” laughed Demetri, shaking his head while he glanced back down at his phone. “Next you’ll be telling me you were jealous of Sam because you’re actually crushing on Miguel instead.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s heart jumped to his throat. He wanted to snap at Demetri right then, to tell him to shut his fucking face and mind his business. That was his first instinct, but he fought to overcome it. Demetri was his friend again; a friend he’d hurt so bad. He was just being curious and teasing him like he used to back before karate came to the Valley. Hawk should have responded with a witty joke or something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But his brain must have short-circuited, because, for the first time in months, he lost his words. “Uh, I uh….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri paused in the middle of his text and looked at Hawk again. When their eyes met, his mouth opened, hanging slightly agape, and Hawk watched his dark brows rise in surprise. “Eli?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk could tell by that look. Demetri had put it together. He’d figured it out. And the only thing Hawk could think to say was, “Please don’t tell him.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Shakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Meet at my place in an hour?” asked Mitch, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike after they walked up to where they’d parked them in the front lot of Miyagi-Do. “Bert already said he’s getting the snacks, but I still gotta run by the drugstore first and pick up some MiraLAX.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk furrowed his brows, twisting his mouth in disgust. “Dude, TMI!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, it’s for my dad,” explained Mitch, sliding on his helmet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Grabbing his own helmet off the handlebar, Hawk replied, “Still didn’t need to know that. But yeah, I’ll be there. While you’re at the store, grab us some extra drinks. And something other than Mountain Dew this time. I can practically taste the cavities when I drink that shit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like you guys are planning a party,” Chris observed, stopping as he passed by them on the way to his car with Nate. To Hawk’s ears, his tone sounded like one laced with suspicion, like he was hinting that they were gonna get up to trouble.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eyeing Chris through his open visor, Mitch shrugged. “Maybe we are. But maybe it’s for Eagle Fang members only.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Like we’d want to go to your lame-ass party, Dickweed,” snapped Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s not Dickweed, it’s Assface,” Mitch threw back. “I-I mean Penis Breath. And I told you, you can’t call me—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris’s expression rolled into one of exasperation as he held up his hands between the two of them and cut in saying, “Hey, hey, let’s just chill.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He started it,” objected Mitch, pointing to Nate, who flipped him off in return.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk spoke up, telling Chris, “How about you guys stop eavesdropping on us? It’s not even a party we’re talking about.” Just an evening chilling with his friends, watching television, and scoping out hot babes on Instagram.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know, our Senseis said we needed to try and get along,” Chris reminded him, raising an eyebrow, sticking his hands in his shorts pockets.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the corners of his eyes, Hawk saw the way Mitch looked to him for a response, the way he always had back when they were in Cobra Kai together. His first instinct was to tell Chris that just because the two dojos were training together didn’t mean they had to spend every waking hour hanging out with each other. And getting along meant not always assuming the worst in each other.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then again, he was still on unsteady ground with the Miyagi-Do crew. His friends in Eagle Fang might have been understanding and welcomed him back, but Hawk could tell by the way the others acted around him that none of them really trusted him as things currently stood.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Well, except for one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tapping his fingers against the helmet in his hands, Hawk pushed through his impulse to tell them to get lost and said, “We’re only watching some TV and hanging out. It’s kind of a Cobra, I mean Eagle Fang thing.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You mean when you’re not jumping us, that’s kind of a thing for you guys, too,” retorted Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk narrowed his eyes and scowled, but when he opened his mouth to say something mean, Mitch cut in. Turning to Chris, he said, “Look, man, all we’re doing is watching wrestling on pay-per-view, nothing else.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, is the Undertaker fighting?” asked Chris, raising his eyebrows.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah!” Mitch answered, an unguarded grin spreading over his mouth. Looking once more at Hawk, he asked the Miyagi-Do students, “Did…Did you guys wanna join us, I guess?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shrugged, but a smile also lit up his face as he looked down at his teammate. “Sound good to you, Nate?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nathaniel stared at the Eagle Fang students and declared, “Someone needs to keep an eye on these goons.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’d call that a yes,” translated Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, be at my place in an hour then,” said Mitch, flipping the visor on his helmet down and hopping on his motorbike.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk watched as Nathaniel and Chris departed to his car, while Mitch revved up and drove off. So this was happening. Hawk had been looking forward to it being only the Eagle Fang gang, since he was actually comfortable around them. But whatever. Chris and Nate wouldn’t be the worst company, he thought to himself, raising his helmet. Nate’s stink-eyes were nothing compared to Sam’s, after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Really? You’re just taking off like that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s hands paused from putting his helmet on, turning around to see Demetri walking up to him. “Well, yeah, practice is over.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his eyes, Demetri folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, okay, I see you’re just gonna pretend you didn’t drop a bombshell back there. Didn’t think sticking your head in the sand was the Eagle way. I’d say I’d expect it more from an ostrich, but that’s actually a myth, even they don’t hide face like you’re doing right now.” He paused a second, looking at Hawk’s spiky red mohawk. A small smile eased the barb of sarcasm. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to mess up your hair, sticking it in the sand like that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pressed his mouth tight. “Can you stop that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Narrowing his eyes, Demetri threw up his hands mockingly and replied, “Oooh, still sensitive about the hair, are we?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I mean, can you stop being so…I dunno, understanding? It’s just weird that you’ve been so cool about everything,” admitted Hawk. “I thought you’d be upset with me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I <em>am</em> upset with you,” Demetri clarified, catching Hawk off-guard with the way he emphasized it so bluntly. “Eli, you and your little gang terrorized me and my friends for six months. You wouldn’t leave us alone. You snapped my arm in two.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s expression went neutral even as his eyes fell to Demetri’s arm again before darting away. He couldn’t think of anything other to say than, “I know. I said I was sorry.” He knew he should say more but he didn’t know if any words would make a difference. Words couldn’t undo things, after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shifted on his feet. “I know you are. I believe you. That’s why I’m giving you some space to figure things out. And just because I’m upset doesn’t mean I’m gonna ignore you. I get it. You’ve been really lost. And I mean, both of your Senseis are total Grade A Assholes; Sensei Lawrence hasn’t changed a bit since he threw me to the mats, and Sensei Kreese could give Emperor Palpatine a run for his money. I’m lucky I got Mr. L. I think you’ll actually really like what he has to teach.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk thought about speaking up in defense of Sensei Lawrence, to say that he <em>had</em> changed, to assure Demetri that even though the dojos were combined, his loyalty was still to his Sensei first. The one who made him what he was….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But no words came to his mind; he’d been struggling a lot with them that day, it seemed. So instead he asked, “So Mr. LaRusso’s the reason you talk so much about that inner peace stuff, huh?” He thought he did a good job of stopping himself from calling it “pussy shit” out loud.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I don’t know what Commando Psycho was teaching you guys, but Mr. LaRusso’s really been hitting us over the head - proverbially, I mean, he’s not Sensei Lawrence - he’s been driving it home that the only way to put this stupid dojo war behind us is to show some compassion, because if we let ourselves get all consumed by blood-lust for revenge, we’re gonna turn out like….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri stopped himself but Hawk could see his hand had extended in his direction. His eyes flitted down again, but a small, self-critical smile creased the side of his mouth. “Like me, right.” He couldn’t even be mad. It was true.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Demetri still looked guilty for almost saying it. Putting his hand back down by his side, he shrugged and said, “Listen, all I really wanted was to ask about what happened back there earlier. Since when have you had a crush on Miguel? Did this happen while you guys were hanging out in Cobra Kai without me last summer?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hearing Demetri state it so openly had Hawk gripping the helmet tighter in his hands. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said sharply. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You see Miguel, he’s back to simping for Sam.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nice, that didn’t sound jealous at all,” replied Demetri, rolling his eyes. Holding up his hands, he said, “But alright. You know me, I’m not gonna <em>make</em> you talk about anything. And don’t worry, I won’t tell him. Your secret’s safe with me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d heard those words before, when as kids Demetri had promised to never out his bedwetting to anyone. But if Demetri was willing to give him the space to make up for his behavior, Hawk figured he needed to grant his friend the same opportunity. “Thanks,” he said, reaching his hand out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sure thing,” Demetri replied, clapping it back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tapping his fingers on his helmet, Hawk mulled for a few seconds before saying, “Hey, some of the guys and I are going over to Mitch’s to watch wrestling and hang. Do you wanna come? Chris and Nate are gonna be there, too. Pro wrestling’s actually pretty fun, believe it or not…. The storylines are even crazier than some of our old D&amp;D campaigns.” It felt foreign on his lips, mixing his new interests with his old penchant for nerd shit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shook his head but kept his smile. “Thanks but I actually need to go meet up with Yasmine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled. “No shit, really? What for, a date?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If I play my cards right, it will be,” replied Demetri, cocking a suggestive eyebrow while a smarmy grin curled up the side of his face. “Keep an eye on my Instagram. If I get us to Social Media Official tonight, I’ll be broadcasting it there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, good luck, man,” laughed Hawk again, jutting his chin out while Demetri turned to leave.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Furrowing his brows in thought, he tapped his fingers on his helmet again before letting out a frustrated sigh. Finally putting it on, he revved up his bike and sped out of the Miyagi-Do lot, racing in the direction that would eventually lead him to Mitch’s neighborhood.</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After ordering their food at In-N-Out, they’d taken their shakes and baskets to a booth, and while initially chatting about what movies were coming out to theaters soon and which they’d like to go see together, Miguel and Sam ended up spending the better part of their date chatting about how things were going at the dojo between Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang. Things that day hadn’t exactly improved after Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso stopped arguing about the purpose of meditation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Swallowing a gulp of his chocolate shake, Miguel said, “Hopefully tomorrow’s practice runs a little more smoothly. In Sensei’s defense, why even have the punching bag if you’re not gonna let us use it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam picked up a fry from her basket, dripping it in her puddle of ketchup. “Dad’s more about keeping to basics right now, until everyone from Eagle Fang is caught up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Caught up?” asked Miguel, his brows knitting together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know what I mean, getting you guys up to where we are with our lessons,” explained Sam. “I honestly can’t believe your Sensei has never had you guys do breathing exercises. They’re fundamental to true karate. If you don’t know the basics, it’s really going to mess you up down the line.” She must have noticed how deep the crease between his brows had gotten, because she then threw in a light-hearted, “But I guess Sensei Lawrence will be more in his element when he has us climbing into a cement truck, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel chuckled; it sounded dry to his own ears. He wondered if Sam didn’t see Eagle Fang Karate as its own legitimate form of the martial art, whether she and Mr. LaRusso still saw Sensei’s style as a cheaper, knock-off version of Miyagi-Do. Was that why Mr. LaRusso kept taking control of the class all the time? Because he thought Miyagi-Do was fundamentally better all around? “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s eyes softened sympathetically. “I know this isn’t what you guys are used to. I know it probably feels really weird. We’re all adjusting. But just remember, my dad is trying to get us <em>all</em> ready for the All-Valley.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know,” agreed Miguel. “And Sensei is, too. They just have different ideas about how to do that right now. But it’s only because this arrangement is so new. I know if we give it enough time that they’ll get along better.” At least he hoped that would be the case. The only way they were going to get along, though, was if both Senseis respected each other.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think you’re right,” agreed Sam before taking a bite out of her burger.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Picking at the fries in his basket, but not eating any of them, Miguel mulled over his thoughts for a moment. The mention of the All-Valley Tournament brought a question to the forefront of his mind, one he’d been wondering about ever since Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso confronted Sensei Kreese at the Cobra Kai dojo. Something that was bugging him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Does this whole ‘waiting until the All-Valley Tournament to face Cobra Kai’ thing feel a little off to you?” he asked. He couldn’t believe the three Senseis had made a deal like that. He wanted to trust Sensei Lawrence’s judgement about the ordeal, and he did, but the whole situation was surreal.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam nodded, stirring her straw in her shake. “Totally. And I don’t trust any of them not to pull something before May. I mean, are we just supposed to take their crazy Sensei at his word? Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“For sure.” It probably was naive to expect for nothing to happen between the dojos in the months between then and the Tournament, Miguel agreed with her whole-heartedly there. Sensei Lawrence surely understood that, too, right? “But at least we all have each other’s backs now, Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, as long as we’re looking out for each other, we can handle anything Cobra Kai throws our way before the Tournament,” agreed Sam. “And I was talking about it with my dad yesterday. We should all try and stay partnered up whenever we’re not at home, between now and then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That was a smart plan. Very pragmatic. Although Miguel didn’t want to admit the idea that he couldn’t hold his own in a fight pricked his self-esteem, he reminded himself this had nothing to do with his ego or his fighting skills, the latter of which was getting closer and closer to normal with each practice. It was about the safety of the teams.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Great idea,” he told Sam, beaming. “Most of us have classes with each other, so school shouldn’t be a problem. And obviously we’ll be fine at the dojo, they won’t do anything with our Senseis there. But you’re right, if we’re just hanging out and about, it’d be good to have backup. I bet we could get Demetri to put together a plan, he’d probably be good at something like that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh totally, he’ll print out Excel sheets for us and everything,” laughed Sam. But Miguel then watched as her expression morphed into something sour and dark, like a grey shadow had come over her face. “But I’m never gonna let that psycho Tory catch me off-guard again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck. He recalled the look of betrayal Tory gave him that day at the restaurant when he suggested she needed help; when she accused him of calling her crazy. “I know how you feel about it,” he assured Sam, “but maybe you shouldn’t call her a ‘psycho.’”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That was probably the wrong thing to say, and he realized it as soon as the words left his mouth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because Sam’s eyes got real big as she sat her drink down, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Are you actually defending her?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What?” Miguel shook his head. “No, come on, Sam.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But she was heated now. “Miguel, she tried to disfigure my face with that spiked bracelet she wears! She and her gang of thugs attacked my home!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam, <em>I know</em>, I just meant—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And she didn’t even visit you in the hospital, during all that time,” Sam accentuated, cutting him off. “And it’s not like she had anything else going on, besides preparing for revenge, I guess. It’s like she has no conscience at all.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shoved a couple of fries into his mouth and chewed. He knew Sam was wrong about that last part there but he didn’t want to speak up again and say so, since it would result in only sticking his foot further into his mouth if he tried. Because even though he knew the reason why Tory never came to see him in the hospital was due to her being racked by guilt, there was still a part of him that was hurt by that, a part that thought she should’ve just pushed her own feelings aside and dealt with it for his sake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now it was <em>his</em> conscience pulling at him when those fries went down hard….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel tried ignoring it. Now that he was on the defensive, he wanted to turn things around. Make a counter-move. “Well, what about Robby?” he demanded. If Sam wanted to talk about exes like that, what about the guy who kicked him off a balcony? And then the first time they saw each other after he got out of juvie, the first thing Robby did was attack him? What did Sam have to say about <em>that</em>, Miguel wondered?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam looked at him like he’d hit her. Was that gonna be how things were?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I mean,” Miguel continued when Sam didn’t say anything at first, “I didn’t accuse you of still having a thing for Robby after you said you’d been sending him emails while he was doing time for breaking my spine.” Should he tell her how much it had stung at that moment to hear she tried keeping in touch with Robby after what happened?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No, that wasn’t fair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her eyes fell and she chewed on her bottom lip. But she argued, “That’s not the same thing.” Wasn’t it though, Miguel wanted to ask? But he didn’t, allowing Sam to look at him again. “And I’m not accusing you of anything.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel drummed his fingers on the table, watching while Sam resumed eating what remained of her burger, presumably eating so she wouldn’t have to say anything else. He bit his bottom lip, too, struggling not to ask the question on his mind, knowing what he risked stepping in if he did. And he lost that fight. “So, how do you feel about Robby now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Across the booth, Sam’s eyes met his. She stared in silence for a few seconds. One, two, three heartbeats. “What are you asking me?” she asked point-blank.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What <em>was</em> he asking?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel looked down at his basket of fries, unable to hold Sam’s gaze. “Nothing,” he answered, reaching for his chocolate shake to take a big sip. He slurped so hard he almost gave himself a brain freeze. Had that been a stupid move, bringing up Robby? But then, Sam had mentioned Tory first. Perhaps it was inevitable, though, whenever the subject of Cobra Kai would come up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Either way, he wasn’t interested in arguing about it anymore. For now, he wanted to go back to his date. He wanted to have a fun time with his girlfriend. Exes didn’t belong in that conversation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, I’m sorry,” he apologized, setting his drink down and reaching across the table to wrap his fingers around her hand. “Let’s just forget about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam pressed her lips tight but Miguel watched it warm into something resembling a smile again. And then she squeezed his hand back. “I’m sorry, too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Pact</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Anyone else getting some serious Dumbledore’s Army vibes here, or is it just me?” asked Demetri. Catching the stares of the other students in their chairs or where they were crowding around the table, he shrugged. “Just me, I guess. Well, regardless, I’ve spent the past few days putting my Ravenclaw ingenuity to good use.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe we should just get started,” suggested Miguel, eyes darting across the impressive Venn diagrams and spreadsheets strewn in front of the group over the kitchen table. He could only imagine the hours Demetri must have poured into this, showcasing that he indeed had been the perfect choice in taking on such an arduous project after Miguel and Sam had approached him about it the previous week.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“To me, the most logical plan was to pair up those who live closest together,” explained Demetri, holding up one list. “Like with me, if I wanted to take a day trip to the mall to pick up the latest issue of <em>Dungeon Lord</em>, I’ve got Chris and Mitch both within reasonable range to hit up; ironic, all things considered. And with you, Sam, if you needed a partner at the last minute, your best bet would be to call Hawk, since he lives closest to your house.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not Hawk,” Sam rebutted without pause.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">By her side, Miguel’s eyes fell on her, as did everyone else’s, for that objection. From that close, he watched as her cheeks pinked in embarrassment and she wrapped her hands around her elbows before she quickly recovered her composure. “Sam?” he asked for clarification.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Bert spoke up before she could say anything. “I’ll team up with Hawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He threw you through a window, you elf-faced shit-for-brains,” argued Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert shrugged. “And Demetri kicked him into a glass trophy case. Eagle Fangs are made of tougher stuff than you pussies.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do any of you in Eagle Fang ever listen to yourselves talk?” asked Chris as he rubbed his left temple, looking at the other students of Sensei Lawrence’s dojo like they were out of their minds.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel glanced across the table at Hawk for his reaction, worried this might blow up right out of the gate. But his friend’s face might as well have been chiseled out of stone for all the emotion he showed; he’d been unusually quiet lately, very unlike Hawk. So Miguel raised his hands to calm the others down. “Hey, let’s cut it out, we’re here to work together. That’s the whole point of merging the two dojos, remember?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Right,” agreed Demetri, gesturing to the list in front of him. “And that’s something we’ll be doing a lot now that none of us is getting much alone time outside of our homes. I even mapped out popular locations where each of us likes to hang out, highlighting which members live nearby to give a call if you need a partner for, say, a night at the beach.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, but what about things like dates?” asked Chris. “We’re not all like Sam and Miguel here and keeping it in the dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Beside him, Mitch’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Wait, you’re dating now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shifted in his chair. “No, but I’m just sayin’ what if?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Way ahead of you, pal,” said Demetri, pulling out another sheet from the pile on the table and handing it to his teammate. “So if one of us needs a night out with a certain someone we find ourselves attracted to, our teammate would still accompany us. Just at a respectable distance. Close enough for if any karate nonsense goes down but not so close that they’re cramping your style. This is where Bert and Nate come in. Statistics show that girls <em>love</em> guys who are great with kids.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So third-wheeling is what you’re suggesting?” concluded Chris, giving Demetri a deadpan stare as he pointed to the paper. “So in this case, I’d have to bring someone like Bert with me on a date to the movies?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What’s wrong? Afraid your girl would leave you for a real man if I was there?” challenged Bert, slurping from the glass of milk in his hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now it was Bert that Chris shot his bemused expression towards.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Everyone, can we please focus?” requested Sam. “We can work out details like that later, if they ever come up at all.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, I spent a long time thinking about almost every scenario you can imagine,” replied Demetri, sounding both insulted and boastful about it. “My past experience as an expert bully-dodger has given me profound insight into these sorts of details.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking one of the lists and scrutinizing it, Mitch scratched the back of his head. “Not to shit on all the work you put into this, Demetri, but if I’m heading out for a slice of pizza on the fly or whatever, I’m probably just gonna call the others in Eagle Fang.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris looked almost hurt by that remark. “You’d just leave me behind like that, even now? Damn.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are we back on pizza status?” asked Mitch, sounding genuinely surprised and regretful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But hearing Mitch mention how his first instinct would be to simply call the other Eagles to hang out brought something to the attention of Miguel as he flipped through the various lists Demetri had printed out for them. He hadn’t put his finger on it before but now it stood out like a red flag: in almost every scenario, the suggestion was for a student from Eagle Fang to team up with one of their peers from Miyagi-Do. And a quick read-through confirmed the situation was not the same in reverse. Miyagi-Do backing up Miyagi-Do was to be expected. Eagle Fang teaming with Eagle Fang outside of the dojo less so.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why the emphasis on making sure it’s always an Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do teaming up?” asked Miguel, holding up one of the papers. It was Demetri’s ‘In Case You’re Going To The Convenience Store At 10PM’ table. Now he was starting to think Demetri had put <em>too much</em> thought into it, making the whole endeavor feel silly. “Who cares if it’s two or more Eagles as long as we have each other’s backs?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Because they don’t trust us,” Hawk stated bluntly, drawing everyone’s attention to where he stood between Demetri and Bert, arms crossed. He glared once to Sam before focusing on Miguel again. “They want someone around to keep an eye on us. I guess they think we’re gonna betray them to Cobra Kai or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel noticed the way the students of Miyagi-Do all cast their eyes down, like they’d been caught in the middle of something. Sam, in particular, seemed to be doing her hardest to avoid looking at him after that accusation was worded. And Miguel couldn’t believe it. How in the world were they supposed to work together and start acting like a combined team when one-half of the group didn’t trust the other?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that true?” Miguel asked them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate bent the straw in the juice box he was drinking from. “Can you blame us?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam also chimed in. “And it’s not <em>you</em> we don’t trust, Miguel.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Something hit Miguel’s gut hard at hearing her say that. It, of course, relieved him to know he had Sam’s absolute faith, but the way that came off made him feel more like a token, like the one good ex-Cobra the guys at Miyagi-Do could get behind. Where did that leave his friends?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He turned his attention back to Hawk, looking for his response again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes swept past by the faces of Nate and Chris, settling on Sam. “If none of you Miyagi-Dos trust me, that’s fine,” he declared, his voice sharp and curt. “I don’t need backup from any of you. I can take care of myself."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In the seat next to him, Demetri raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t you worried about Kreese retaliating against you for turning on him?” he asked. “I mean, he gave me a bloody nose just for pointing out the anatomical errors of his cobra tattoo. What do you think he’d do to you for making him lose his big fight?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel watched Hawk shrug off the threat like it was no big deal, even as he also caught Bert and Mitch squirming in sudden discomfort. “I can beat any of those guys left at Cobra Kai and they know it,” Hawk boasted. “The Hawk’s not scared of anything.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s great to have a powerhouse like you back on our team,” declared Miguel, shooting Hawk a reassuring smile. That looked like it perked his friend up some, judging by the little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “I say our best bet is to make a group text chat. I mean, we can still work with what Demetri laid out here, it’s good stuff. But we’re not doing this to spy on each other. It’s just to have each other’s backs until the Tournament. If that means Eagle Fang with Miyagi-Do or Eagle Fang with Eagle Fang, who cares? In my opinion, the more of us there are, the better off we’ll be.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They’d barely won the fight at the LaRussos’ home that night in December, even with the combined dojos of Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang at the time. Cobra Kai had come so close to beating them. And here they were, sowing distrust among each other. Here was Miyagi-Do still disrespecting Eagle Fang. How were they ever going to beat Cobra Kai next time if they couldn’t get past these personal feelings?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone in Eagle Fang all locked their sights on Miguel, looking to him for leadership. It lifted Miguel’s spirits to be reminded that even though he still wasn’t back in top fighting shape yet, his teammates admired him and held his opinion in high regard. He wouldn’t let them down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And he didn’t miss the way Demetri, Chris, Nathaniel, and the others in Miyagi-Do looked at Sam the same way. She was every bit their unspoken leader as he was Eagle Fang’s. It made total sense with the way she had carried herself over the past several months. They would listen to her, trust her judgement, and follow her example.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel understood then the only way to smooth things over between everyone would be to get Sam onboard.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They all paused for a second when Sam’s younger brother Anthony walked into the kitchen. Shooting the group an unimpressed look while reaching into the refrigerator for a Coke, he asked, “Who are you guys supposed to be, Dumbledore’s Army?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“See, I told you,” remarked Demetri, tapping Chris’s arm and pointing at the kid. “This guy gets it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh my god, Anthony, go back to your room,” said Sam, rolling her eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Screw that, I’m hanging in the living room and listening to you guys till Mom gets back,” replied Anthony, taking his drink and the Nintendo Switch in his hands over to the couch to lounge on it. “Are you guys planning your revenge on Cobra Kai, finally? Those assholes totally trashed the house, it’s past time they got some payback.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Negatory,” Demetri called out to him, sparring one quick glance at Hawk, who stuck his hands in his joggers’ pockets. “Mr. L made it crystal clear none of us are supposed to go anywhere near Cobra Kai until the All-Valley Tournament in May. He never needed to tell me twice, I’d prefer never to interact with any of them again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch turned his attention to Miguel, setting down his can of soda. “I really can’t believe Sensei Lawrence agreed to that. Miguel, I know he doesn’t want us to start the fight or strike first anymore or whatever, but are we really supposed to sit around and wait for something to happen?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Squaring his shoulders back, Miguel remarked, “I know how you feel, and I don’t like it, either.” He reminded himself again to trust Sensei Lawrence’s judgement on the matter. Sensei had to know what he was doing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But how are they even going to know where we’ll be?” asked Bert, setting his glass down after polishing off the milk in it. “I mean, apart from school and the dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch pointed out, “Cobra Kai’s serious business under Sensei Kreese, but it’s not exactly a spy hub. It’s not like they’re hacking our phones or something. Anyone else get the feeling we’re all starting to sound a little paranoid?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t know, you guys always seemed to find us wherever we were at, no problem,” retorted Demetri with a huff.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, because we all hang out at the same places, genius,” explained Hawk, like it was obvious.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam shot him a look. “Really? I assumed you guys just frenzied around the scent of fresh blood like a bunch of sharks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">An argument broke out after that, voices piling upon voices as each clamored to have their own heard. Miyagi-Do members were accusing Eagle Fang of being stalkers and double-agents, Eagle Fang students were calling the Miyagi-Dos paranoid conspirators. Things were getting so heated that Miguel was actually concerned the whole team up would risk falling apart right there in that kitchen. And how would they ever explain that to their Senseis?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Quiet!” shouted Miguel over the noise, channeling his inner-Sensei Lawrence with that command, holding his hands up to immediately silence everyone. “Arguing isn’t helping anything. Everyone get it together and keep some perspective. We’re not each other’s enemy. Now just cool your heads and let’s try thinking straight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The group went quiet after that, either stunned to silence by him stepping up and getting them back under control or by all of them being too ashamed to restart the conversation. Nobody wanted to speak up first again, lest it light another fuse. It was like they were surrounded by landmines.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But after a couple solid minutes of awkward stillness, Mitch suggested, “Hey, Miguel, can we break for five or something?” Gesturing to the empty soda cans in front of him, he said, “I’ve got, like, three Dr. Peppers in me and I need to go.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate held up his own empty and crushed juice box, adding, “I gotta pee, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over from the coach, Anthony called out, “You guys better not blowout our toilets!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting out a big sigh, Miguel rubbed his hands down his face but still nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s all take a break, that’s a good idea. Take fifteen minutes, everyone, we’ll meet back here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“First dibs!” called out Mitch, pushing Nate out of the way to race down the hall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Jesus Christ, relax, we got, like, four freaking bathrooms,” came Anthony from the living room again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the other guys stood up from their chairs and dispersed, Miguel followed Sam to where she walked over to the refrigerator and asked, “Hey, what was up with that thing about Hawk earlier?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam didn’t even look at him as she grabbed a smoothie bottle. “He was right about one thing,” she said, “I <em>don’t</em> trust him. Don’t ask me to count on him to have my back against Tory and her gang if they ever attack us, because I won’t.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her directness caught Miguel by surprise. He supposed he should have seen this coming. “Hey, I know he did a lot of stuff that was messed up. You know I’m not gonna defend that. But Sensei Kreese really has a way of getting into people’s heads.” He could attest to that himself, remembering his actions at Coyote Creek. But rather than dig that up, he told Sam, “Go ask Bert and Mitch, they’ll agree. And Hawk’s here now and he’s been trying to adapt with the rest of us. I’m not asking you to be his friend or anything but at least give him a chance to prove himself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That didn’t appear to convince Sam as she popped the top off her smoothie and took a big sip, shooting him a skeptical glance from under her tightly-knitted eyebrows.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel also pointed out, “Besides, we might’ve lost the fight that night if he didn’t turn on Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam shook her head. “You don’t know that for sure.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe not,” conceded Miguel, “but don’t you think he’s still a good asset to the team? Nobody here knows more about the way Sensei Kreese teaches than he does. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Sam didn’t look anymore convinced by that argument, so Miguel next offered, “And what about the lessons your dad’s been teaching the past couple of weeks? About trying to move past this dojo war? You and me, we never wanted that in the first place. So shouldn’t it start here with us, rebuilding trust between everyone else? It’s a New Year. Let’s start fresh.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That at least got Sam’s brows softening in thought as something he said seemed to reach her. Taking another sip of her smoothie, she gave a small nod. “Alright.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel smiled back. “Thanks,” he said, reaching down to give her a quick kiss, one she weakly returned before making her way back to her seat at the table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With Sam onboard now, the rest of the discussion went without much of a hitch. They made their plans. Whenever not at home, it was two or more to a group, and it didn’t matter from which dojo they came. They opened a text chat for anyone looking for a partner for any reason. (“Just please no 2AM runs,” Miguel pleaded.) They were all in. And Sam insisted they swear an oath by it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We <em>all</em> make the pact,” Sam emphasized, taking the lead and laying her hand down on the middle of the table to start them off. “Everyone makes the pledge or they quit right here and now. No matter how we personally feel about each other, going forward all of us have each other’s backs. We’re all in this together, no matter what. Nobody abandons each other.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel laid his hand on top of hers without a moment’s hesitation. “Agreed.” He glanced at the guys, waiting for their response.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Uncrossing his arms, Hawk reached over and put his hand over Miguel’s. Demetri followed immediately after, clapping his on Hawk’s. Then came Chris and after him Mitch. Then Bert stretched his arm over to add his, followed by Nate who did the same. Soon all members of Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang took the oath, setting the pact in motion.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everything else wrapped up smoothly after that. Everyone who still needed to swap each other’s numbers and social media pages did so without gripe, guaranteeing each of them had a means of communicating with everybody else on the team.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m definitely filing Mitch under ‘Penis Breath’ in my contacts,” said Nate as he and Demetri left the house after the dojos dispersed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While heading towards the door, Hawk spotted Miguel on his phone. Letting a big grin light up his face, he called out to him, “Look at El Serpiente, taking the lead like that back there! That’s more of what I expect from the champ.” He extended his hand for a fist bump.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel accepted the gesture. “Hey, thanks for trying to keep it cool earlier,” he told him. “I know it can’t be all that fun for you right now, but you understand, right? Just stick with it, give the guys at Miyagi-Do some more time, I’m sure they’ll come around.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk rolled his shoulders. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his grin faltering. Catching himself, he forced it back up the side of his mouth crookedly. “And hell, even if they don’t, at least I still got Eagle Fang, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s smile and firm nod encouraged him. “Right,” he said, giving Hawk a parting pat on the back as he stepped past him and out the door before turning his attention to Mitch, who ran up to Miguel with one of Demetri’s sheets and a few questions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Hawk stepped off the porch and sauntered towards the driveway, Sam was there waiting for him, stopping him in his tracks. She stood up straight as a rod, her arms crossed and her face pinched tight. His own expression went neutral again at her signal of aggression, putting up his guard as he jutted out his chin. “What?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You better keep your word,” she told him, sounding more serious than he’d ever heard her in any of their previous interactions together. “Because if you step out of line even once, if you get my friends hurt again? You’ll be sorry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">First threatened by Tory, now Sam. Hawk supposed that was just where he was in life at the moment, landing on girls’ shit-lists. All he could think to do was scoff. He was tired and all he wanted to do then was hop on his motorbike and go home. He had better things to do than stand there and let Samantha LaRusso infer he was a traitor to the people he’d turned on Cobra Kai for. “Yeah, whatever you say.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk took another few steps forward, but Sam cut him off. Her glare pierced him like an icicle, without falter or any hint of frailty. “Look, I’d rather have you fighting for us than against us,” she told him, “but just for the record? I <em>hate</em> having you here and I’ll <em>never</em> forgive you for the things you did to us. I’ll never forget the way Demetri screamed when you broke his arm. Ever.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d never forget Demetri’s screams, either; they were permanently seared into his brain’s ear. But rather than sharing that bit they had in common with each other, Hawk said, “I don’t care what you think and I don’t need your forgiveness. Stay mad for all I care, Princess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got a crack showing through Sam’s defensive walls, making her mouth hang a little open in surprise at his retort. But she recovered fast. Shaking her head, she declared, “You’re horrible, do you know that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Having had enough of the conversation, Hawk pushed past her, checking her shoulder with his own as he did so. Making his way down the driveway, he stuck his hands back in his pockets and muttered under his breath, “Tell me something I don’t already know.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Big Splash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel missed the days he left practice sore, when he’d come home with the kind of muscle ache that lasted hours after the lesson was done. At those moments it had felt like he’d done a real workout, that he’d accomplished a lot. He hadn’t felt that sense of accomplishment much since Mr. LaRusso started getting Eagle Fang “caught up” to Miyagi-Do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It wasn’t that Miguel didn’t understand the purpose of breathing techniques and katas. He just didn’t get why that meant they couldn’t do some good old-fashioned self-offense-style karate, too. Because at the rate Mr. LaRusso was teaching the class, Miguel didn’t see how he’d possibly get back to normal again before the All-Valley Tournament. How would he ever defend his title against Cobra Kai if things didn’t change soon?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Have a good night,” he told Sam after she dropped him off at his apartment that night, leaning over to kiss her before getting out of her car. “And we gotta do this again. You were right, the dojo was the perfect place for winter star-gazing.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam grinned. “Told you so. Night!” She waved once and then drove out of the parking lot to make her way home.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Walking to his door, Miguel spotted Sensei Lawrence fishing his pockets for his keys outside his own. “Hey, Sensei,” he called out, “dinner should probably be about done if you wanna come in. I think Ya-Ya said she’s making chicken tonight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence cast a glance over his shoulder in his direction. He then looked past Miguel to the Diazes’ door and the muscles in his face clenched. “Eh, now’s not a good time,” he said, rolling his shoulders as he unlocked his door.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sure, no prob,” replied Miguel. Sensei Lawrence must’ve been busy with other stuff. Maybe planning a new lesson or navigating Facebook again or something. “See you at practice after school tomorrow then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Walking inside his apartment, the delicious scent of <em>seco de pollo</em> hit him, proving his memory correct. He thought about bringing some over to Sensei’s later. “Hey, I’m home,” he announced to his mother, walking over to where she stood near the counter. His smile waned, however, when she looked at him, and he caught the way she slid her phone in her pocket discreetly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her eyes were puffy like she’d been crying. And she had that look on her face, like she was masking previous anger now behind a veneer of warmth for his sake. He’d seen that look before several times growing up. Usually when some douchebag broke her heart.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Everything okay, Mom?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen rubbed her son’s shoulders and kissed him on top of his head. “Everything’s fine,” she assured him before walking into the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen, go wash up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to object because nothing seemed fine about this. But when he opened his mouth to say more, his Ya-Ya gently pushed him in the direction of the hallway. “<em>It’s okay, Miggy</em>,” she said. “<em>Go to your room for a while.</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There was no arguing over it. Maybe something happened at work. But Miguel did as he was told and went to his bedroom. If it had been super serious, his mom and grandma would let him know. They didn’t hide important things from him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tossing his backpack to the floor, Miguel sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. Back to school after the holidays, and teachers wasted no time handing out homework and assignments. He was still feeling the burnout from getting caught up after his recovery period.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A ping from his phone grabbed his attention. There were a couple of texts from the group chat:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert: <em>can someone take me to the store tmw b4 practice? need to pick up a carton of milk</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris: <em>ur parents don’t grocery shop?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch: <em>I got u Bert, I’ll bring the extra helmet</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting out a soft sigh, Miguel ran a hand through his hair. Scrolling through the texts showed a lot of bickering going on, but at least everyone was using the chat for its purpose. And the longer they trained together for the All-Valley, the more they would come together as one team, despite being comprised of two dojos, Miguel was sure of it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His gaze drifted up from his phone to the bulletin board above his desk, settling on an old newspaper clipping he had pinned to it, from the last All-Valley Tournament. Him surrounded by his teammates and Sensei, the championship trophy clasped in his hands. Miguel narrowed his eyes hard, pressing his mouth in a thin, tight line.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing down at his phone again, he opened the FaceTime app and dialed out. In a few seconds, Hawk’s face greeted him on the screen. “Yo, Miguel! What’s up, man?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, this is gonna sound really random I’m sure,” answered Miguel, “but when you were at Cobra Kai, do you remember ever seeing if my championship trophy was still there?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyebrows furrowed as he gave it some thought. “Yeah. Sensei Kreese had a lot of trophies up on display. Yours was there, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">An irritated sigh broke from Miguel and he slumped in his chair, hunching his shoulders. “Great,” he grumbled. That was what he was afraid of. “So it’s there where I can’t get it back.” Fury swelled hot in his chest thinking about Sensei Kreese having the trophy - <em>his</em> trophy - in his possession. Worse still, the thought of Robby Keene getting to look at it, even in envy, made Miguel’s blood boil; his hand clenched tight around his phone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I didn’t even think about it at the time. I mean, I always assumed you’d come back eventually,” admitted Hawk. Miguel watched his features harden in determination. “You wanna get the guys and break into the Cobra Kai dojo one night and grab it? Like, we could throw a brick through the window, run in, and take it back, it’s displayed right up front. And even if someone’s there when we do it, between you and me, we can take any of them down, even Sensei Kreese.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel snorted at the audacious suggestion. “Be serious,” he told him, the corner of his mouth curling. It wasn’t like he wasn’t tempted, after all. But, as much as it pained him to admit it to himself, there was no way he was in enough shape to take on the dojo; and if even Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso together had trouble with Sensei Kreese, how could he hope to beat the old man? Rather than say all that, however, he reminded Hawk, “You know Sensei said we’re not allowed to go near that place.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On his phone, Hawk’s brows knitted together peevishly. “Oh right. No more striking first, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel could only shrug in return. Sounded like they didn’t have many options. “I guess we’ll have to wait until we beat Cobra Kai at the All-Valley,” he said. “Imagine Sensei Kreese’s face when Eagle Fang beats Cobra Kai in the finals and we win both the trophy and the dojo back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I say we fuck his whole stupid plan up,” suggested Hawk, energy in his voice. “I’m not getting disqualified this year. Between us, we’ll make sure Robby doesn’t even get to the finals. It’ll be you and me. Cobra Kai can suck on that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That thought brought a grin back to Miguel’s face. Sensei Kreese was probably banking on his new star student Robby making it to the finals to face one of them, and the only thing that would be sweeter than beating Robby again then would be wiping him out of the competition before it got to that point. “Sounds like a plan,” he told Hawk. “Complete and total Eagle Fang victory."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk beamed from ear-to-ear. “Just like it should’ve been last year,” he declared. “Well, I mean when we were the original Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was nice to see Hawk relaxed and back more to his usual self, thought Miguel. Things were still too much in the awkward stage at the moment for him to be casual at the dojo, and he could understand why his friend felt like he had to always have his guard up around the others. But it was nice to be able to chat so freely with him again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m still gonna win and become a two-time champ, just so we’re on the same page,” Miguel clarified boastfully, arching an eyebrow. “So you better get used to second-place disappointment.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He heard Hawk chuckle through the speakers as he said, “We’ll see about that.” Miguel then watched as his expression smoothed into one of unmasked sincerity. “But if you change your mind about breaking into Cobra Kai and getting your trophy back, hit me up. From now on, I got your back no matter what. For real. I mean it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel recognized that unspoken look on his face, Hawk’s regret for choosing Sensei Kreese over him and Sensei Lawrence for as long as he had. And he knew Hawk was likely itching for an opportunity to prove his loyalty again if someone would give him the chance. Miguel couldn’t blame the Miyagi-Do students for being apprehensive, considering everything that happened, but he knew Hawk would show them, with enough time, his attempts at rehabilitation were genuine.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel reassured him. “I know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso had been running late to practice that day. Last-minute business at LaRusso Auto, according to a text on Sam’s phone. That didn’t mean the lesson had been canceled, however. Sensei Lawrence realized what was going on and seized his chance to take the lead of the class, unfettered by Mr. LaRusso, and started his own lesson.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, Penis Breath, square off with Half-Pint here,” ordered Sensei Lawrence, gesturing between Mitch and Nathaniel. Then he pointed to Hawk and Demetri. “Hawk, you fight the mouthy one.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri narrowed his eyes. “Sensei Lawrence, you know we have actual names, right? Like, the ones our parents gave us?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I bet you do,” agreed Sensei Lawrence, his tone riddled with enough sarcasm to match Demetri’s own, “and maybe one day I’ll learn them. But for now, stop your yapping and get to fighting. All of you have been allowed to slack off too much lately, you’re turning into a bunch of pansies. I mean, some of you were already pansies in the first place. Time to get back in shape. So go kick each other’s asses and show me what you got for the Tournament.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence finished pairing everyone off and told them to start sparring. There was much grumbling among the Miyagi-Do students. “Man, I did my time in Cobra Kai already,” mumbled Chris while he and Bert went to find a spot. “I didn’t ask for a second round of this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking their positions near the bridge, Sam glared at Miguel. “Why does Sensei Lawrence have to be like that?” she demanded, sounding very annoyed, like she was holding much worse criticism back for his sake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Something about Sensei Lawrence’s behavior that day seemed off, Miguel had to admit, but he couldn’t place why. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary about him getting everyone back in line with the Eagle Fang technique, but it was almost like Sensei was distracted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s just how he does things, don’t take it personally,” he tried explaining. But maybe it was time he had a talk with Sensei after practice. Demetri, Chris, and Nate had all experienced this side of Sensei Lawrence before and hadn’t enjoyed it. Sam wouldn’t like it any more than they had. Miyagi-Do was a different group, they needed to be handled in a different way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over by the stone monument, Hawk’s hands twitched by his sides, itching with excitement to get back to fighting the way he was familiar with. But why against Demetri, of all people? “You’re cool with this?” he checked, tapping Demetri’s chest with the back of his hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s eyes flickered down to his shoes for a second, but then he shrugged and put on a smile. “Yeah, of course. It’s just practice. I mean, you already checked your No Mercy luggage back at the Cobra Kai station, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swallowed hard. “Yeah, man. You know it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They took their positions, staring at each other’s faces, studying one another. Hawk realized by that look Demetri still wasn’t going to attack first. Which might’ve been very Miyagi-Do of him, but this was a fight and one of them would need to make the first move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Hawk did, launching a spin kick at Demetri’s face. Demetri’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, ducking at the last moment to avoid being hit. His arm shot up to block Hawk’s follow-up punch, but when Hawk spun around to kick him again, Demetri grunted as the foot collided with his gut, sending him doubling-over, clutching at it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point,” muttered Hawk while they went back to their original positions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri gave him an anxious look even as he joked, “Try not to make me throw up my lunch. Remember, it was spaghetti day in the cafeteria, the results won’t be pretty.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk opened the second round with a forward punch, which Demetri blocked. A fast motion with his elbow allowed him to deflect a hit from Hawk’s other hand, too. Demetri ducked to the ground and tried to sweep his leg, but Hawk leaped over it and spun a kick towards his face again. Demetri was fast enough to avoid it and then launched a fist towards Hawk’s shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri missed, leaving himself open for attack. Hawk saw his opportunity and took it, wrapping his arms around Demetri’s torso and throwing him to the ground and on his back, exposing his chest for the point. Hawk reared his arm, curling a fist, and prepared to launch the final strike.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eli, don’t, please!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk froze. Demetri had a primal terror in his wide, pleading eyes. And it hit him: Demetri was still afraid of him, on some deep level. That realization hit Hawk like a punch to the stomach. Because he could understand if he’d been really into it, if he’d allowed the fight to draw him into the sort of hysteria where all that mattered was finishing the enemy. He’d lost himself to it before….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But he hadn’t been this time. All he’d done was try to score a point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They stared at each other in uncomfortable silence, chests heaving as they caught their breaths until Hawk lowered and uncurled his fist, offering Demetri a hand instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri accepted it, allowing Hawk to help him to his feet. And once he was upright, Hawk caught the way his friend rubbed his right arm. “I think we make a better tag-team than sparring partners,” Demetri said, sounding forlorn, perhaps embarrassed at himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swallowed again. “I think you’re right,” he agreed, curling his left hand over his right fist, letting his knuckles dig into his palm without even realizing it, as distress and frustration mounted inside him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In another part of the yard, Miguel fought Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She deflected his punch, first from his right hand and then his left, swinging under his extended left arm to put herself behind him. Miguel pivoted on his feet, not letting his opponent catch him in a vulnerable position. With a strained yell, he put his energy into his core and launched his leg out in a hard kick.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It still lacked the force it used to. Sam blocked his kick, but rather than counter-attack, which Miguel prepared himself for, she backed away, raising her fists near her face in defense. Miguel huffed, irritated by it, and dropped out of his form. “C’mon, Sam, fight me for real.” He couldn’t return to top condition if people wouldn’t stop holding back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Both Dad and Sensei Lawrence said you could take your time,” Sam reminded him. “I know you’re in a hurry to get back to where you were before but you really shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s cheeks burned. He’d been worried about this ever since Sensei opened the new dojo. The others said they were excited to see him back, and he believed they really were, but now everyone was <em>too</em> worried, <em>too</em> careful around him, and he didn’t know when that would stop.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hadn’t he shown them all he was back in the game when he beat Kyler’s ass that night? Hadn’t he shown himself? Shouldn’t he be the one to judge whether or not he was pushing himself too hard?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Miguel glanced across the yard at the others. Bert was fighting Chris by the tree, but judging by how landing a hit on Chris didn’t even phase him, Bert was hopelessly outmatched by someone that much taller and bulkier than him. And at the stone monument, Demetri and Hawk were talking, not even practicing at all. Sensei wouldn’t like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel next looked over at the koi pond, where Mitch and Nate were in the middle of a fight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate was on the defensive, avoiding one punch and then another. He jabbed at the Eagle Fang student with his own move, which Mitch blocked with his hand. Mitch then swung his opposite arm at his rival, but Nate ducked, avoiding Mitch’s punch. But he did not recover fast enough, leaving himself exposed. He had only a second to flinch before Mitch kicked him solidly in the chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The kick sent Nate flying backward into the koi pond behind him, landing in the water with a big splash. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to that area while Nate broke the surface, face dripping wet and furious. “Fuck you, asshole!” he screamed at Mitch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What on Earth is going on here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now everybody’s eyes turned to the little wooden bridge in the middle of the dojo, where Mr. LaRusso stood. His face was contorted in shock and disbelief, like he’d stepped right into the midst of a wildfire.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nate, are you alright?” he called out first. Dragging himself out of the pond, Nate didn’t answer but instead splashed Mitch when the boy offered his hand for help. So Mr. LaRusso then directed his attention to Sensei Lawrence. “Johnny, what the hell?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence rolled his eyes, even as Mr. LaRusso marched up closer to get in his face. “Jesus Christ, the kid fell in a puddle and got a little wet. You wanna call an ambulance? Relax, it was a legal kick.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m delayed for one day and I come back here to see you letting them beat each other up?” asked Mr. LaRusso, sounding beyond exasperated. He looked like he wanted to tear out his neatly-styled hair. “I thought you left that behind at Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That must have hit its mark, judging by the way Sensei Lawrence’s mouth creased. “Hey, that’s not—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Mr. LaRusso cut off Sensei Lawrence, pointing a finger dangerously close to his chest. “Let’s get one thing straight: this is <em>my</em> dojo and it’s <em>my</em> rules we’ll be going by to get these kids ready for the All-Valley.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s whole body stiffened. “You said this was gonna be a partnership,” he said, his voice strained, “but so far it’s been nothing but LaRusso’s way or the highway. I might as well have kept my dojo at the park, at least there they could get some target practice chucking frisbees at hippies instead of joining them in their peace-and-love bullshit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“At least <em>here</em> at Miyagi-Do they have a shot at getting on the right path,” argued Mr. LaRusso, getting even more heated in his tone. “You tried things your way, Johnny, and look what happened. Kreese stole your dojo. He turned your kids into monsters. And if you don’t correct your mistake now, right here, you’ll just repeat it all over again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pinched his brows together hard, taken aback. He’d come to respect Mr. LaRusso since the dojos merged, but his brazen criticism of Sensei Lawrence stung. How could he speak to Sensei like that, Miguel wondered, when Mr. LaRusso was <em>Robby</em>’s original teacher?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s eyes narrowed and Miguel spotted his fists curling at his sides. For a second, he was worried it might actually come to blows between the Senseis; and he didn’t want to have to enact the procedure in the Sensei Dispute Resolution Protocol designed for something like this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Thankfully, Sensei Lawrence instead took a look over at him, then to Mitch, Bert, and finally Hawk before turning back to Mr. LaRusso and saying, “You really wanna do this? In front of the kids?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That seemed to cool Mr. LaRusso down some, as if he remembered only then that all the students were there to listen to everything he said. “Alright. Inside.” Directing his attention to the students, he called out, “Everyone, take a break. Someone, please get Nate a towel.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The students, all looking various degrees of stunned, did as they were told, breaking for the time being. Each congregated in their individual groups by dojo. Demetri handed Nate a towel as he and Chris cast worried looks towards the house where the karate teachers had secluded themselves. Mitch was busy talking to Hawk and Bert, wondering what exactly he’d done wrong to warrant a blow up like that from Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Mr. LaRusso would drag Sensei like that in front of everyone.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe they should’ve talked in private,” said Sam, looking visibly discomfited herself, “but it’s not like he was wrong.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s whole face pinched. Was Sam really going there? “So you agree with him?” he snapped. “Your dad’s always right and Sensei’s always wrong, is that it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s not what I said!” argued Sam, her eyes going wide.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But the previous few weeks of passive-aggression and irreverence leveled at his dojo had Miguel unwilling to listen. All his frustrations came pouring out. “All Mr. LaRusso ever seems to do is disrespect Sensei! He won’t let him lead the classes, he won’t let him teach Eagle Fang style karate! And the one time Sensei does in all these weeks, he blows up at him just because Nate got kicked in the pond? Has your dad ever thought that maybe there’s <em>good</em> to what Sensei Lawrence teaches? Has he thought about maybe practicing what he preaches about balance and unity and <em>not</em> shitting on Eagle Fang all the time? Because it’s not just him, it’s all of Miyagi-Do at this point!</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The more he had talked, the more stiff and uncomfortable his girlfriend had gotten over the course of his vent. Sam now crossed her arms. Her gaze fell down and a sober sadness came over the features of her face, as if someone had just finished telling her horrible news. “This isn’t working out,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What? The merger?” asked Miguel, allowing himself to calm down now that he’d finished ranting. He took a deep breath, rubbing the tense muscles in the back of his neck. Now he regretted his outburst. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t believe the team-up could still work. “Look, Sam, I know today was a bad day, but we expected those would happen from time to time, and that’s what we—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not the merger,” cut in Sam, meeting his gaze again. “I mean us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s mouth fell open as it felt like someone dropped a bolder into his gut, crushing it. “What are you saying?” She couldn’t be suggesting….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But she was. “I think we need some time apart.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Separation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The weekend passed and Miguel continued to sulk about what happened. He couldn’t help it. He was always the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve. “She insisted it’s not a <em>full</em> breakup,” he explained as he, Hawk, Demetri, Chris, and Mitch all found a table to sit at in the school cafeteria. He’d unloaded the story on them. It would’ve only been a matter of time anyway before they figured out there was trouble in paradise. “Just a temporary separation, a little time apart.” Whatever the hell that meant.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his Instagram feed, Hawk rolled his eyes. It sounded like Miguel was in the denial stage. He’d been through all this before and could expect each step from his friend like clockwork.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, at least she’s not ghosting you,” Mitch pointed out, opening his carton of chocolate milk. “That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m not so sure about that,” argued Demetri, observing, “her choice to sit with Yasmine and Moon today might mean something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel followed Demetri’s gaze over to the table across the room, where Sam was sitting and chatting with the other girls. He still couldn’t believe she suggested splitting apart again, after everything that had happened between them. After everything they’d been through. After what he’d done to Tory’s feelings in order to get with Sam again….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He told himself to hold onto the dangling carrot in front of him, the one that said this wasn’t a full breakup. This wasn’t permanent and if he gave Sam some space this time, she would be fine. Considering she was still talking to him at school and practice, and she hadn’t blocked him on social media, at least they were doing leagues better now than their previous fight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That didn’t make it hurt any less, however. It didn’t stop his chest from aching.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At Sam’s table, Yasmine looked over at Demetri. Her smile seemed to get the smallest inch wider, and she gave a subtle wave with her fingers in his direction. Demetri winked back, clicking with his tongue, making Miguel slump into his chair some with envy. How was it that Demetri and Yasmine were making their relationship work, meanwhile he and Sam couldn’t?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Granted, Demetri and Yasmine didn’t have to deal with the weight of a karate war on their shoulders on top of normal relationship troubles. That probably helped.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As Yasmine turned her attention back to Sam and Moon, Demetri arched a smug eyebrow to the other guys and bragged, “Guess who’s got a study date at my house tonight?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled. “Sweet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch assured Miguel, “Miguel, dude, I wouldn’t read too much into it. Chicks just like hanging out with each other. Sam will be begging for you back by the end of the week, tops.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Setting his cell on the table, Hawk wanted to tell Mitch to save his breath. Mitch wasn’t there for the first round of Sam dumping Miguel but Hawk knew exactly the slump his friend was going to throw himself into over this. But while he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Miguel do that to himself again, he couldn’t say he would be losing any sleep over the news of Sam’s latest drama.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri, Chris, you guys know Sam pretty well by now,” said Miguel. “Maybe one of you can talk to her and see what the deal is?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk took a big drink from his juice box. Out of the denial stage and into the desperation stage, right on cue.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Look, Miguel, I think you’re cool and all but I’ve got bigger things on my plate right now to deal with,” replied Chris, tearing a packet of ketchup over his burger. “Like, who’s gonna come to Golf N’ Stuff tonight and back me up during my shift? Sam already said she and her family are going out, so she can’t cover. Demetri, according to your work list, you’re supposed to be my backup.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh damn, I totally forgot,” said Demetri, twisting his mouth in guilt. “Maybe I can talk Yasmine into pushing our study date out until tomorrow night. Paper’s not due till Wednesday, after all.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Forking his mashed potatoes around the corner of his tray, ignoring his hamburger, Hawk pressed his lips together in a thin line for a moment before looking over at Chris and saying, “I can do it. I’ve got nothing going on tonight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris’s eyebrows knitted together, his skeptical glance scrutinizing Hawk for whatever his motive might be for volunteering. But, putting the bun back on his burger, he gave a single nod. “Alright, be there at five o’clock. It’s a four-hour shift, so you might want to bring your homework or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Risking a smile, Hawk joked, “What, you can’t hook me up with some free arcade games?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We don’t have that rapport yet, man. You guys almost cost me this job. Not to mention crossing that line about my mom,” Chris told him point-blank before taking a bite out of his lunch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes fell down to his mashed potatoes again, smile vanishing, remembering that night he and the Cobras harassed Chris; he caught the way Mitch started chewing on his thumbnail, probably recalling the event, too. Hawk’s cheeks burned in shame. “Right. Sorry. Five o’clock then.” He’d muttered so many apologies over the past several weeks, it felt like it was leading up to Yom Kippur.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris swallowed his food and added, “Besides, they don’t even give <em>me </em>free gameplay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A hand reaching down to slap Hawk’s phone off the table, sending it skidding across the cafeteria floor, grabbed everyone’s attention at once. Suddenly, a group of five boys came up from behind them, getting in their space. Miguel and Hawk felt a pair of hands squeeze their shoulders when one of the guys loomed down between the two of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Dieter, man, that’s no way to treat the property of an old teammate. Go get it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel narrowed his eyes. “Kyler, what do you want?” His jaw clenched as he caught a look at the red, black, and yellow ensemble comprising the getup Kyler was wearing. Seeing his rival in Cobra Kai colors still disgusted him. It couldn’t help but remind Miguel of how far Cobra Kai had fallen from the dojo he remembered, the dojo <em>he</em> helped build from the ground up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glowering at Dieter while he walked over to pick up his phone, Hawk balled his hands into fists on the table. The assholes better not have cracked it, he thought to himself before also turning his attention to Kyler. Did Kyler really think that because he wasn’t with Cobra Kai anymore that he’d let things go back to the way they used to be between them when he was just Eli? Maybe if he crushed the bones in the hand resting on his shoulder, that would remind him who he was messing with.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Relax, Rhea,” Kyler told Miguel, although his expression looked anything <em>but</em> relaxed. He looked like he wanted to have a go at him, right then and there, consequences be damned. Miguel shared the feeling, remembering vividly the way Kyler pounded his fist into his back over and over again during that fight at the LaRussos’ house; purposefully aiming for his spinal injury, Sensei Kreese had trained him well. “Just coming over here to make sure we were all gonna be cool with each other until the All-Valley.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess that depends on whether or not your crazy Sensei decides it’s open season on us again,” answered Demetri, mouth twisted in irritation at this false game Kyler insisted on playing. Hawk smiled a little, remembering how at this point the previous year, Demetri <em>never</em> would’ve had the nerve to speak to Kyler like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then Demetri let out a frustrated groan when Big Red reached down and swiped his juice box for daring to inject his commentary. Chris tried grabbing it back, only for Big Red to then squeeze the juice over his hamburger, tossing the empty carton on top of it when he was finished making the mess. “Son of a…,” Chris muttered under his breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk leveled a glare at Big Red, clenching his fists tighter. And when his old teammate noticed, it thrilled him to see he couldn’t hold his stare, to see Big Red’s eyes fall to his shoes and take a step back. So at least <em>he</em> remembered what Hawk was really capable of. If any of them needed a refresher, Hawk was glad to provide one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stared straight ahead, catching the eyes of Sam from her table. She had a serious expression on her face and her shoulders were stiff. She looked like she was willing to rush over to help them in a second if Cobra Kai showed the first signs of causing real trouble. Then, seeing Sam’s concern, Yasmine and Moon were also casting worried glances their way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Already tired of how the interaction was transpiring, Miguel pushed Kyler’s hand off his shoulder. “Kyler, how many times do you need me to kick your ass before it sinks in you’ll never get the best of me again? Two times wasn’t enough? You wanna make it a hat trick?” he taunted, making Hawk smirk beside him and Mitch laugh from where he was sitting beside Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Keep talking shit, Rhea,” Kyler goaded. “You’re writing a check your ass can’t cash. Next time you won’t be so lucky. Soon, Cobra Kai will get another crack at Chickenshit Karate—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s Eagle Fang,” corrected Miguel, cutting in.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler laughed. “Man, who came up with that lame-ass name?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s jaw locked tight again. He wasn’t surprised Kyler would take advantage of the lull between battles to size them up and egg them on again, knowing there was no way any of them would start anything at school. But he was tired of his shit regardless. “Just get the hell out of here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Passing one more harsh glance between Miguel and Hawk, Kyler said, “I’ll tell Tory you losers said hi.” He gave Hawk’s shoulder another tight squeeze before gesturing for his crew to follow him. The clatter of Dieter tossing Hawk’s cell back on the table in front of him was the last noise the group made before walking away. Hawk picked his phone up, giving an internal sigh of relief at seeing they hadn’t busted it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I wish we could put those jerks in their place right now,” muttered Mitch, rapping his knuckles on the table. “Man, I’d kill to get a rematch against Kyler.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Get in line,” agreed Miguel, opening his pudding cup with a single harsh jerk of his hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri told them, “As much as it pains me to remind you guys, you’ll have to save it for the Tournament. If we’re lucky, that’s the worst we’ll have to put up with from those assholes in the meantime.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I admire your optimism,” said Chris with a dry smile.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Raising his hand to his chest in mock shock, Demetri gasped. “Me? Optimistic? I thought you knew me better than that by now,” he joked, drawing a sensible chuckle from everyone at the table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They resumed their lunches. Hawk stared at the hamburger on his tray. Taking a napkin, he then wrapped it up and slid it across the table to Chris. “Five o’clock,” he promised again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a few seconds’ hesitation, Chris accepted the offering. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Uh, you really should probably wrap up your hands before doing that,” suggested Mitch, grunting when Hawk hit the punching bag again. He concentrated on holding the bag as steady from the other side of it as he could so his teammate’s jabs didn’t send him stumbling off his feet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ignoring Mitch’s suggestion, Hawk punched the bag again and again. He could feel Sam’s glare burning a hole in the back of his shoulder-blade from where she was watching them as she did her pre-class stretching on the lawn. But he didn’t care. Let her watch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He needed an outlet and all he could think of was the punching bag that Mr. LaRusso rarely used during class. It was why he’d dragged Mitch with him to the dojo early that day. He had to get it all out of him before practice started and he needed someone to train with, since he had no interest in being alone with only Mr. LaRusso and Sam for company.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, at the rate things were going, how much longer would they have the punching bag at the dojo to workout on, he couldn’t help but wonder? For the remainder of that week following the blowup between the Senseis, the tension had not eased between Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso. It was even worse than usual.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk hissed between his teeth when the middle knuckle on his left hand hit the bag the wrong way. He pulled it back instinctively, bringing it to his mouth to suck on. Peeking from behind the punching bag, Mitch said, “Told you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Hawk, shaking his left hand to ease the sharp soreness from his finger just in time to see Demetri, Chris, and Nate coming in. That meant the others in Eagle Fang couldn’t be far behind. And a quick phone check confirmed they had about five minutes left before the lesson started. “Let’s break. The guys will be here soon anyway.” He strolled over to the cooler, opening it and pulling out the two water bottles they’d buried in the fresh ice earlier when they got there. He tossed Mitch’s to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Twisting the top and chugging a few gulps down, Mitch smiled at him. “Hey, you think next time you can hold the bag for me? I wanna practice my right hook.” He did a quick one-two air punch for emphasis.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk let out a breathy chuckle. Mitch was good company, at least when he wasn’t trying to hand him a warm beer. And to think he ever let Sensei Kreese talk him into replacing Mitch with Kyler; Mitch never would’ve forgotten the snake hook at the zoo. “Sure thing,” said Hawk. “Maybe I can even show you some moves. I bet you could land a sick jab-cross-uppercut combo."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Both of them turned around when they saw their teammates turn the corner, entering through the gate. Their smiles waned, however, at seeing how unenthusiastic they looked. Something was wrong. Miguel, Bert, the other Eagles, they all had faces showing open confusion and apprehension. “What’s up?” asked Hawk, noting something unusual right away. “Where’s Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He dropped us off and then said he had to go do something else,” answered Miguel, furrowing his brow in deep concern. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t been there to witness it for himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk frowned. “Did he say what it was about?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel could only shake his head and roll his shoulders.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shifting the weight of his backpack strap on his shoulder, Bert hesitated before saying, “I think he might be going back to the park and seeing if he can bring the dojo there again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got the attention of all the kids, Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do alike. Each of them stared at Bert, eyes wide in surprise at that piece of news. “Why do you think that?” asked Sam, stepping up next to them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert explained, “It was after practice was wrapping up yesterday. Sensei Lawrence said he’d spilled a whole bag of corn nuts in his van, so he told me to take Mr. LaRusso’s car vacuum and clean the carpet before we left. While I was doing that, I overheard them arguing in the lot. Sensei said it might be better if the two dojos split up again and we do things our own way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why don’t you ever tell us these things?” demanded Hawk, voice rising in exasperation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert shrugged, adjusting his glasses. “I dunno, it’s not like this was the first time they were yelling at each other. And I’m trying to mind my own business more.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel, has Sensei mentioned anything about this to you?” asked Mitch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking his head again, Miguel admitted, “No.” Sensei hadn’t raised a single word about that or anything of the kind all week. And he couldn’t believe Sensei Lawrence would make a big decision like that without at least mentioning <em>something</em> to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s shoulders sagged. “So much for our big Avengers Assemble moment,” he mumbled, dragging out his defeatism like an old shield.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions, yet,” Chris pointed out. “Not unless one of them actually says something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Has Mr. LaRusso said anything to you, Sam?” asked Nate, looking up at his teammate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam wrapped her hands over her elbows. “Nothing like that, no,” she answered, sounding as concerned about this as everyone else. “And it wouldn’t be like my dad to give up on something like this. He wouldn’t want to separate the teams with everything that’s at stake.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to confirm that it wouldn’t be like Sensei to give up either. But in his heart, he couldn’t truly say that. Because Sensei <em>had</em> given up on the dojo before. He’d let Kreese take over Cobra Kai without putting up a fight. He let months go by without doing anything about it, letting Hawk and Tory and everyone else think he was weak and that everything he and Miguel had built wasn’t worth fighting for.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Yeah, Sensei admitted that was wrong of him. Miguel had seen him apologize to the group, had witnessed him take up the role as Sensei again with renewed vigor. But after weeks of being dissed by Mr. LaRusso, would Sensei really fight that hard to hold the two dojos together? Even when they had a common enemy in Sensei Kreese’s Cobra Kai?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do could still work this out, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But after Sam suggested they spend time apart, well, now it made Miguel doubt. If he and Sam couldn’t make things work out, could any of them? He didn’t mean to wrap up the fate of the two dojos in with his love life, but at the moment it was difficult not to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Not knowing the answer to these questions in his head, all Miguel could say was, “I agree with Chris. Let’s just wait and see what Sensei says first.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do students each stared silently at one another for a minute. Chris looked beside him at Mitch, Bert elbowed Nate softly, Hawk and Demetri shared a glance, and Miguel met Sam’s eyes. The kids’ expressions mirrored each other as all of them came to the same, silent agreement: despite all the problems they’d run across while adjusting, despite the hurt feelings and lingering mistrust, none of them wanted to see the two dojos separated.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Nate summarized what they were all thinking aloud when he muttered, “This sucks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, everyone, let’s get started,” announced Mr. LaRusso, rubbing his hands together while he stepped out of the house and onto the patio. Miguel noted he, too, had a look of barely-concealed worry on his face. “Sensei Lawrence had another matter to attend to and so won’t be joining us today. But for all of you he drove here, don’t worry, I can take you home once class is over. For now, we’ll resume where we left off yesterday with our katas.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The rest of the lesson went on like it normally did. Another day, another rehearsal of the katas they’d learned, along with a couple of new ones he wanted them to practice. Mr. LaRusso was nothing but encouraging during the whole class, dishing out words of praise to the Eagle Fang students whenever they performed a kata perfectly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Excellent, Miguel!” he applauded after Miguel completed a Gankaku exercise. And Miguel had to admit it felt good to get it right. It was never a problem about <em>what</em> Mr. LaRusso was teaching, but <em>how</em> he was teaching it. The lessons lacked Eagle Fang energy. He was never as pumped up as he got when Sensei Lawrence taught them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And during the entire time, Miguel and Sam kept an emotional distance from each other, even while she assisted her father in showing the group a new move. And, like the previous few days, whenever she spoke to Miguel directly, it was like how a Sensei would address a student; or at least how her dad did. Miguel didn’t know whether that was better or worse than the silent treatment. Either way, it made his chest heavy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After practice finished, Miguel fought against the urge to intrude where Sam was talking with the other Miyagi-Do students. All he wanted to do was talk, just <em>talk</em> about whatever problems they were having, maybe over a couple of large chocolate shakes at In-N-Out. But wasn’t that why she’d shut down so fast the previous time they fought? Him not giving up the pursuit when she’d laid down that boundary?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It didn’t help when Mitch laughed and elbowed him. “I saw the way Sam was looking at you when she corrected your form earlier. See? I told you, give her a week and she’d be all over you again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s face pinched at Mitch’s misreading of the situation, rolling his eyes hard when Mitch gave Miguel a pat on the shoulder before stepping away to talk to Chris. Mitch clearly never had to deal with a girl breaking his heart before. It looked like <em>he</em> would need to step in and give Miguel some real advice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know what you need?” Hawk said while he and Miguel walked over and retrieved their backpacks from the patio. “To get away from everything for a day and clear your head. Tomorrow’s Saturday, the freedom of the weekend is on us. Let’s hang out, you and me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsure what they could do that might actually help put the stress of everything happening at the moment behind him for at least one day. But Hawk sounded excited, and he wore an encouraging smile. Miguel was at least willing to chase that enthusiasm and see if he could catch it, too. “Oh yeah? What do you suggest?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A confident smirk curled up the side of Hawk’s face. Looking over his shoulder, he called out, “Yo, Mitch! You still got the extra helmet?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Snake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Alright, she’s all gassed up and ready to go.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel took the helmet being held out to him, his brows still furrowed in a moment of lingering uncertainty as his eyes scoped out Hawk’s sleek black motorcycle again. He’d never ridden one of these in his life. But behind that hesitancy, his heart started beating faster at thinking about what a thrill-ride this might end up being.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Hawk had that sly smirk on his face behind his open visor, promising a wild experience no matter what.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel grinned, slipping the helmet over his head. “Try to keep in mind if you crash, my Ya-Ya’s gonna kill you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk laughed, adjusting his balance on the seat. “Relax. Mitch and I have been cruising these trails for over three months now. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Hop on.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A pang of envy stung Miguel’s chest at hearing Hawk talk about him and Mitch hanging out like that for months now, reminding him how much time he’d lost among his friends while cooped up healing in the hospital, and later at home. A lot of shit had gone down at Cobra Kai in his absence, but somehow that hurt less than remembering about all the fun times he’d missed out on with the guys. All because of Robby….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fastening the helmet in place, Miguel got onto the bike, flipping his leg over the other side and situating himself behind Hawk. It was a bit of a tight space, not much room for him to move around without falling off the back entirely. “So, where are you taking me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing over his shoulder at him, Hawk answered, “I’ll take us up Malibu, we’ll hit Mulholland. There’s this sick trail called The Snake, it’ll take us up to this cool spot where we can stop for a drink.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Miguel, pressing the button that sent his reflective visor down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s gonna be a helluva scenic route. Just enjoy the view and have fun.” Hawk’s grin widened and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Better hold on tight, though,” he added before flipping his visor down, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel leaned closer against Hawk’s back, wrapping his arms to hook around his friend’s waist. Hawk hit the kickstand back with his heel, revved up his bike, and they were off, racing out of the Reseda Heights parking lot.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a while, Hawk drove them through the streets Miguel was well familiar with. He counted off the landmarks in his head as they passed by them, trying to get used to maintaining his balance on the motorcycle whenever they came to a red light. The helmet dampened the sounds of the traffic around them but the experience was still far different than riding these commonplace areas in a car.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel felt more present, more firmly aware of his surroundings than he did when he was riding with his mom or Sensei in the relative safety of being surrounded on all sides by a hunk of metal. Like getting used to the apprehension of having a truck driving close behind them. For several miles, Miguel caught himself frequently glancing over his shoulder to make sure the vehicles weren’t tailgating or if they were leaving them a respectable distance whenever they came to a stop.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">By the time they drove through Malibu, however, the apprehension started melting away. Miguel’s eyes swept the ritzy stores along the streets, watching the pedestrians going about their business, crossing the walkways carrying high-end shopping bags. But this was only a fleeting stop on the journey, and as soon as they got off the city road, there was the Pacific Ocean to their left. That would be an amazing road trip on a motorcycle one day, Miguel thought to himself, traveling up the Pacific coast.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk got on the freeway and for the next several miles it was long stretches of road ahead of them, winding up the Malibu hills. Traffic became fewer and far between and Miguel was able to enjoy the expansive view of the open valleys on the bright and cool January morning, a whole horizon of browns and yellows and greens against a blue sky. Palm trees became more and more a rare sight in exchange for more traditional forestry. Stores were in short supply in these areas, the majority of rest stops looking to be public restrooms and parks.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel relaxed fully in his position now, delighting in the little sights he caught while they sped by: someone had a fruit stand set up on the side of the street; a group of tourists congregated by a guard rail to savor the view of the mountains; bicyclists were doing some sort of training for a marathon in their lane, unable to keep up with the speed of a motorbike.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His jacket whipped against him as Hawk sped up. If it wouldn’t have been one of the most ill-advised choices, Miguel would have loved to take off his helmet and get the full experience of having the wind in his face at the maximum speed limit they had reached. In lieu of that, he unwrapped his right arm and held his hand out, fingers extended. He grinned as the air cut against his skin. A holler of excitement broke out of his throat, pumping his fist. “Whoo-hoo!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It made everything back home seem so insignificant, if only for a fleeting moment. And Miguel thought again of what Hawk said about him and Mitch cruising these roads for months; meanwhile, he’d been holed up in his apartment, learning how to walk again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, we’re coming up on The Snake!” Hawk shouted, his voice muffled by his helmet and the wind. “Hang on!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel re-wrapped his arm around and gripped him tighter in enough time for Hawk to lean them into the first sharp curve on the road. They dipped over so low, Miguel could have lowered his hand again and touched the pavement, and for a second he was worried Hawk really was going to crash and make them roadkill. But Hawk righted them up no problem, revving his engine again to show off as they continued around the stretch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Other motorcycles were coming and going on both sides of the road, all riding The Snake themselves like a bunch of adrenaline junkies. Hawk kept them flying up the stretch, turning another sharp corner. Miguel glanced to his right and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the steep cliff-hanging on the other side of the guard rail. All it would have taken was hitting the turn a bit too wide and they would’ve been goners.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk got them upright again without hassle and accelerated up the hill. Miguel looked over his shoulder to watch as two other bikers did the same, winding the wicked curve and coming out of it unscathed. It made Miguel’s heart thunder in his ribcage from the excitement of doing something so reckless but so fun and getting out of it undamaged. It reminded him of some of the things they used to get up to in Cobra Kai, like training in the junkyard or climbing into the cement truck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At the top of the hill was a store, which Hawk pulled into, finding a spot to park his bike. Glancing around the parking lot, with all the motorcycles lined up at the store Miguel would’ve thought Hawk had taken them up to a biker bar, and wouldn’t have put it past him to. It didn’t look like a rough place, though, like he was half-expecting. Just a normal little dine-in place he guessed was popular with the motorcyclists who enjoyed riding The Snake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Flipping his visor up, Hawk lowered the kickstand while he and Miguel got off the bike. “So, what did El Serpiente think of The Snake?” he asked, making a serpentine winding motion with his arm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Holy shit, man, that was insane!” Miguel exclaimed, pulling the helmet off and raking his fingers through his messy, sweaty hair. He didn’t think he could’ve unscrewed the smile from his face if he tried. What a ride.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fun, huh?” asked Hawk with an amused smirk, unlatching his own helmet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Dude, it was wild!” declared Miguel, setting his helmet on the seat. His eyebrows creased some when Hawk took his off, revealing his mohawk to be barely looking any worse for wear. “Hey, how do you keep it up like that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Stamina, man. Oh, you meant the hair!” Hawk laughed when Miguel gave him a light punch on the shoulder for that. “C’mon, let’s go in and grab a couple of cold ones.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As they walked up to the store, Miguel remarked, “I know you’re not about to drink a beer and drive us back downhill.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk opened the door for them. “Nah, I just meant a couple pops. And some chili cheese fries. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They grabbed their orders and took them back outside to sit on a bench overlooking the nearby valley. Miguel thought it was even more spectacular without the helmet visor, and he could appreciate it more when not blasting by at upwards of 60MPH. Granted, it wasn’t exactly peaceful and quiet, with all the noisy motorcycles coming and going from the place. But other than that, it was the perfect place to take a nice rest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, you said you and Mitch have been hitting this place up a lot the last few months?” asked Miguel, eating a couple of cheesy fries from the single carton they were sharing between the two of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk kicked a pebble near his shoe, sending it into the grass. “Yeah. It’s the best place to get away from everything for a while.” And over the last few weeks, he’d felt its call again whenever the constant stares of fear, distrust, and hate from the others got to be too much to handle. Here, at least, was a place he didn’t have to be constantly reminded how horrible he was, and it was better than wallowing at home in self-pity about it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel smiled, sipping his soda through his straw. “Since when did you become such an adrenaline junkie?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I always say to live in the moment,” chuckled Hawk. Then, more sincerely, he explained, “But after the fight at the school, things got really intense. You were in the hospital and it felt like everyone in the world turned on us. Sensei Kreese was at least promising us things would get better if we were strong enough, but even with karate, the guys and I needed to just, I dunno, find a way to get away from that shit. ‘Cause when you’re putting the pedal to the metal like that, it doesn’t matter what’s going on out there with everyone else.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I wish I could’ve been up here with you guys,” admitted Miguel, allowing himself the opportunity to accept the grief he was feeling. So much stuff, good and bad, had happened while he was out of commission and wasn’t there to experience it. Catching the twinge of concern showing on Hawk’s face, he clarified, “I mean, I hate what Cobra Kai turned into under Kreese, but I really did miss you guys a lot while I was gone.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s mouth dried up. He wetted it with a sip of his drink. “You know it was mutual. And hey, from now on you gotta come with us on our rides. I can even teach you how to drive, it’s not that hard. Who knows, maybe we could get a crowdfund going and get you your own bike, too!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel laughed at the thought, even if he was tempted by the prospect of owning his own motorcycle after what he’d experienced that day. “Oh yeah, I’m sure my mom would <em>love</em> that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, you’re seventeen,” Hawk pointed out. “El Serpiente’s gotta slither out of the nest sometime.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pressed his mouth in an affectionate grin. “Still sticking with that nickname? Even if we’re not in Cobra Kai anymore?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’ll always be El Serpiente to me, man,” Hawk told him. “You were the first, the <em>real</em> King Cobra.” His mouth then twisted a little in uncertainty. “I mean, unless you want me to call you El Águila instead. But you’d be getting into my turf there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nah, you can keep calling me El Serpiente, that’s fine,” said Miguel, rolling his shoulders back to loosen them. A small smile still on his face, he took another fry and raised his eyebrows to Hawk, noting, “Although, <em>technically</em>, it would be La Serpiente.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I always did get marked off on quizzes for getting the genders wrong,” admitted Hawk, taking a big gulp of his pop.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel looked again at the breathtaking scenery in front of him, and that previous somberness stirred in his belly once more. “God, can you believe how much things have changed in a year?” He didn’t mean to get all philosophical, but it clawed at him something terrible. He missed the way things were, before the stupid war, before Sensei Lawrence brought Kreese into the dojo. He missed <em>his</em> Cobra Kai. “Like, here we are getting ready for a new All-Valley. Remember training for last year’s? Remember when Sensei got everyone lined up so Aisha could make them learn how to take a big hit to the stomach without throwing up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk had the same nostalgic expression on his face now, too. “Yeah, that was great. I miss Aisha, she was badass. Do you ever hear from her?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That tug on his insides again. “I got a few texts from her at the beginning,” Miguel said. “Y’know, after my fall. We texted for a few weeks after that, I kept her up-to-date when I could, but then things just kinda fizzled out.” Perhaps neither of them were really to blame. Aisha probably had a new life now at the private school her parents sent her to. Still, maybe he should try texting her again some time to catch back up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk looked like he didn’t know what to say. His eyes merely got blank, almost sad. And after a quiet minute, he ended up saying nothing at all, opting instead to eat a few more fries.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With the subject lingering on the first girl ever to join Cobra Kai, perhaps it was inevitable Miguel’s mind would start drifting towards the second. He stirred the straw in his cup, staring straight ahead at the valley ahead of them. “You haven’t heard from Tory at all since that night at the LaRussos, have you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” Hawk answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I keep wondering if I should go talk to her. Maybe at where she works or something, y’know, somewhere public. We only talked once after I got out of the hospital,” said Miguel. His cheeks warmed thinking of that day, thinking about the turn that conversation with her had taken. “I kinda said some things….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk arched an eyebrow, eating another messy fry. “Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d told her nobody else got hurt by that fight other than him. It hadn’t come out right. Or maybe it came out exactly how he’d intended it to. But he’d been so frustrated with his lack of progress at the time, even after the surgery, so tired of being in that wheelchair and feeling like he’d never be back to the way he was before being kicked off that balcony. And there was Tory, telling him if one of them got hurt, they all did. It had upset him at the time to hear it, so much so he couldn’t take even a moment to consider what she and everyone else left in Cobra Kai had been feeling after the fight, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Reaching his hand back to rub the nape of his neck, Miguel admitted, “I guess I was pretty upset she never came to visit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I tried telling her she should,” said Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyes fell as he wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Sometimes it made me wonder if she cared about how things turned out at all. But she said she just didn’t know what to do to help. She said she felt guilty about everything….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“She did,” affirmed Hawk with a nod. It had been easy enough to sense that vibe from her in class. He’d never understood why. It was Robby’s fault Miguel landed in the hospital. “C’mon, man, you know how chicks are.” He stuffed a few more fries in his mouth, not knowing what else to say.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Looking at him, Miguel asked, “You don’t think I could talk her out of Cobra Kai, do you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk took a moment to chew his mouthful of fries slower. “I don’t know,” he admitted after swallowing. She was as into the war as he had been. She had as much faith in Sensei Kreese as he once did. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be reasoned with, that one day she might not see for herself that Sensei Kreese didn’t deserve her loyalty. But Hawk didn’t know if she’d listen to either of <em>them </em>telling her that<em>.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A big sigh had Miguel slumping on the bench. “And even if I could, I’m trying to imagine how things would go between her and Sam if she joined Eagle Fang.” The look on his face said it all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk had no trouble imagining how that would go down. If Sam had that much of an issue with <em>his</em> presence in the dojo, she’d have a complete meltdown if asked to share space with Tory. And he doubted if any of Mr. LaRusso’s lessons on forgiveness and compassion would ever get through to her then. Even if it meant an end to the dojo war once and for all, Sam would sooner go to her grave than let go of a grudge, wouldn’t she?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But he hadn’t brought Miguel all the way out there to revert back to talking about Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re supposed to be up here to forget about your girl troubles,” Hawk reminded him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know, I know,” Miguel groaned. He licked his bottom lip after taking another sip of his drink. “So, do you think I oughta just give up on girls for a while?” he asked as he took another fry, not knowing whether he intended it as a joke or not but wanting to hear Hawk’s opinion regardless. Between Sam and Tory and Sam again, he wasn’t exactly batting a thousand when it came to understanding girls or their feelings.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Totally,” laughed Hawk, elbowing him in the side. “Guys only, from now on.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel almost snorted soda through his nose. “Jesus Christ, dude, you’re gonna make me choke,” he said, grinning through the sting it brought. Playing along, he ribbed Hawk back and said, “But hey, maybe you’re right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyebrows raised on his forehead. “Oh yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh definitely. I mean, I’m not opposed to exploring different options,” Miguel continued. “I’ve looked at a guy or two.” He and Hawk stared at each other for a few seconds before they broke into laughter again. Shaking his head, Miguel reached between them and gave Hawk’s shoulder a little shove.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Still, Miguel had to admit coming up there was helping put things in perspective. On top of the hills, all the concerns waiting for them back home, all of their pressing problems, didn’t seem so insurmountable. Each day he was getting stronger and by May he would be ready to face Robby at the Tournament; and chase Sensei Kreese’s Cobra Kai out of the Valley forever.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In the meantime, he wondered if he really wouldn’t benefit from putting things on hold with Sam, at least until the merging of the dojos was on a better footing. Perhaps Sam was right to put some space between them for now. Once things between their teams and their Senseis were settled, they’d be on much more stable ground to resume things where they left off, because at least that tension wouldn’t be present anymore.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk tapped his fingertips against the edge of the seat on either side of his knees. The thought flashed in the forefront of his mind. Had Miguel been joking about all that? He wasn’t always great about picking up on cues, but Miguel sounded sincere enough. Should he test the waters some more and find out? After all, Miguel and Sam were broken up now, right? Or separated, same difference. What was the worst that could happen by asking?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>You could ruin what you got already</em>, his conscience warned him. And after everything lately, did he want to risk that? But even if Miguel had been joking, he wouldn’t take it badly, right? After all, it was Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s initial instinct told him to strike first. Make a move. Go all-in. But that was Cobra Kai talking. Did those words even have a place in his credo anymore? Wasn’t he supposed to leave all of it behind or something? What did his lessons in Eagle Fang tell him to do?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His eyes flitted down to where Miguel rested his hand on his knee. What would be the worst outcome, he wondered again, if he reached down and wrapped his own over it right at that moment? Worst case, he could play it off as a joke. But would being laughed at by Miguel be even worse than the alternative?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before he could act, Miguel moved his hand, taking the carton with the last couple of fries and holding it out for Hawk to finish off. “Hey,” he said, flashing him another big smile, “thanks for doing this. It was a blast. Let’s do it again one day.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Whatever words Hawk had had on the tip of his tongue evaporated. He instead accepted the carton and grinned back. “Anytime, man.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Work in Progress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“C’mon, Mitch!” pressured Miguel, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I know you can hit harder than that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At the next practice, everyone waited outside in the yard. Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence were still inside the dojo, talking as they had been since they’d arrived almost twenty minutes ago. To alleviate boredom in the meantime, the students broke off and did their own things.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk was trying to show Bert how to get his kicks higher, which ended up with Bert doing an accidental split and cringing on the ground. Demetri was busy applying sunscreen, despite it being the middle of winter, insisting that direct sunlight was direct sunlight regardless of the seasons. And since Sam was busy chatting with Chris and Nathaniel, Miguel asked Mitch to engage with him in some friendly sparring.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now if he could only convince his teammate to put some real force behind his punches. They weren’t Miyagi-Do, they were Eagle Fang, and Miguel expected Mitch to act like it. Because when Mitch landed the previous point, the hit against his shoulder felt more like a modest tap.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch bit his bottom lip nervously for a second. Miguel recognized that look of hesitation and concern and had come to hate it. But thankfully Mitch then nodded. “Okay, sorry, I got you for real.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They took their starting positions, did the customary bow, and started the third round. Mitch led with a right-hand punch, one Miguel shot out his left arm to deflect. He then leaned in with his own right fist, aiming for Mitch’s chest, but the other boy pivoted on his feet to avoid contact; inwardly, Miguel cursed how his speed had not improved any of late.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Recovering, Miguel twirled around to try landing a kick, but his balance wobbled at the last moment. He only had a second to let out a yell when Mitch ducked under his kick, grabbed him under his arms, and then flipped him over his shoulder, throwing Miguel to the ground. Mitch followed the toss with a quick punch to Miguel’s gut, landing the point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch’s face lit up with a huge grin, undoubtedly surprised by his own reflexes. “Hey, I won!” However, when he looked down as Miguel shifted himself up into a sitting position, his grin morphed into a grimace. Miguel thought he detected guilt on his face. He’d also come to hate that. “Sorry,” Mitch apologized.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t, it’s cool,” Miguel muttered, waving his apology away while he stood up on his feet. The guys in Eagle Fang never used to apologize for landing a move on him, as rare as those occasions used to be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His whole face burned in embarrassment, thinking of those days when he was unquestionably the top student in the dojo. Now Mitch was besting him. And Miguel meant no offense to his friend, but if he couldn’t win a match against Mitch, how could he hope to face someone like Robby again?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His win against Kyler that night hadn’t really been about luck, had it?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No. Miguel was certain it wasn’t.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He congratulated Mitch, patting him on the shoulder. “Good fight.” He may have been frustrated but Miguel knew there was no point in not being a good sport about it, especially since <em>he’d</em> been the one to ask Mitch to spar in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Quiet!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All the students stopped what they were doing at that command, gawking over to see Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence step outside the backdoor. Miguel stood up straight, noting the serious look on Sensei’s face. Was this it, he wondered? Were they about to announce that, even though they’d given it a real shot, they were going to split Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do up again and do things their own way until they met up again at the All-Valley Tournament to take on Cobra Kai?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Giving a side-glance to Sensei Lawrence, no doubt due to his gauche method of getting everyone’s attention at once, Mr. LaRusso said, “Alright, everyone, please gather around. Sensei Lawrence and I have an announcement.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Here it comes,” Miguel heard Demetri mumble beside him. Everyone else’s expressions showed they shared his sentiment and were preparing themselves for the worst.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s get one thing clear from the start,” stated Sensei Lawrence. Miguel saw his eyes sweep over them all. “This month has taken a complete shit on what was supposed to be a new page for both Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do Karate. And, yeah, a lot of that was because of La— <em>Mr. </em>LaRusso here.” He paused a second to catch his co-teacher’s stare. “But I’ll admit, I could’ve stepped up better. I should’ve fought harder to prove Eagle Fang has a thing or two to teach you guys here at Miyagi-Do. But after everything lately with Cobra Kai, I guess I’ve been wondering what I have to offer you new students as a Sensei. I forgot this thing was a work in progress, that we weren’t gonna have all the answers right away. But Eagles aren’t chickens, that’s why they’re kings of the sky! And I’m not giving up on any of you, either. I’m here to teach <em>all</em> of you how to bite like an Eagle and that’s what I’m gonna do!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel beamed as a metric ton of weight suddenly lifted off his shoulders at hearing Sensei’s speech. And the other guys in Eagle Fang were as stoked as he was, even if the students of Miyagi-Do had confused looks on their faces. They weren’t going to separate the dojos. And Sensei Lawrence was finally gonna be able to take a lead in the class.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso spoke next. “And to all of you kids from Eagle Fang,” he addressed them, “I’m sorry for what I said last week. One of the marks of a teacher must be humility, and the last few months have been nothing short of humbling for me, honestly. But one of the most important lessons Mr. Miyagi taught me was that there’s no such thing as a bad student, only a bad teacher. I never used to think I’d ever be that bad teacher. But I’ve failed before and I didn’t want to let down you guys, too. But that fear has been making me try to force you into a style I was comfortable teaching, rather than thinking about what might be best for you. Going forward, I’ll do my best to meet each of you on your own level, as individuals; like Mr. Miyagi did for me, and like I’ve tried to do for my own students.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Placing his hands by his sides, Mr. LaRusso bowed to the students. Sensei Lawrence did the same, and soon after all of students from the two dojos followed their teachers’ example. And now, for the time being, Miguel forgot all about his earlier frustrations from his dissatisfying sparring session.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While they all spread out to get ready to start class, Sam came over beside him. Miguel’s spirits lifted even more. “Hey!” he said. “I appreciated your dad’s apology. I also wanted to say, I’m sorry for blowing up last week.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s okay,” Sam assured him. “Things have been really tense for a long time. But it sounds like they’re gonna start picking up soon.” Now she had that particular smile that made Miguel melt at the knees, the one that highlighted her dimples. “I liked Sensei Lawrence’s speech.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to cave in right there and ask her to take him back. But, taking in a deep breath, he powered forward with what he’d wanted to tell her since arriving at the dojo that day. “And listen, I gave it a lot of thought over the weekend and I wanted to say, I think you were right to suggest giving each other some space.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The grin on Sam’s face faded some, and her eyes widened in surprise to hear him say that. Yet, all she did was nod and say, “Right. Sounds good. And remember, it’s not a full breakup.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded back. “Right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Previously, he would have leaned down to kiss her. For now, all he could do was settle for a smile and a handshake. His only consolation was that, at least to his own two eyes, she looked about as satisfied with that as he did. And that gave him some hope that this separation wouldn’t last longer than a few more weeks. His heart even swelled at the thought that they’d be back to normal by Valentine’s Day next month.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Miguel walked back to the Eagle Fang students, they all had various degrees of inquisitiveness written on their faces as they jumped into his business; to be fair, he remembered he was the one who’d dragged them into it in the first place. “So, what’d Sam say?” asked Mitch. “You two patch things up yet?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shrugged. “No, but I agreed with her that we should keep things the way they are for a while. So, like, more than friends but not <em>dating </em>dating. But we’re on the same page and she still says it’s not a full breakup, so I think we’re gonna be okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Neither Mitch nor Hawk looked particularly convinced by that. “Really?” asked Hawk, arching an eyebrow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel was ready to move on from discussing his love life. “C’mon, guys, let’s get ready for practice.” He broke apart from them, sauntering over to take his spot nearer to the walkway, where Sensei Lawrence was standing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From beside Hawk, Bert shook his head. “Whipped.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Waving to Nate and Chris as they strolled past her on their way to the little wooden bridge, Sam took an opportunity during the short break before their lesson got started to walk over to the water cooler for her drink. As soon as she opened it, a voice behind her snapped, “Think you can stop stringing Miguel along already?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She almost jumped, looking over her shoulder to see Hawk. He had his eyes narrowed, looking peevish and sounding just as annoyed. She supposed he couldn’t help sticking his nose in something that wasn’t his to mess with. So Sam made a point of pressing her lips in a thin line, turning back around to grab her bottle out of the ice, brushing him off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk must’ve caught onto her strategy. She heard him scoff. “Pssh, what, you’re just gonna ignore what you don’t wanna hear? Yeah, that tracks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam whipped around so fast it sent her braid flying behind her shoulder. “You know what? This really isn’t any of your business, so why don’t you try minding yours instead?” she snapped right back, grasping her water bottle tight in her hand, staring him straight in his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, Princess?” retorted Hawk, his scarred upper lip curling back in a sneer. “You won’t commit to a clean breakup, you’re gonna put Miguel on the back burner until you decide you’re ready to pick him up again. It’s always about <em>your</em> feelings, isn’t it? Or do you just love being the center of drama so much?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She clenched her jaw tighter with each word he threw in her face. “<em>You’re</em> one to talk about feelings, considering you don’t have any,” Sam parried back. If he wasn’t going to hold back, neither was she.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes finally darted down, breaking first. Sam was prouder about that than she felt she probably should be. But then he caught her sight again and now his eyes were meaner. “Just do Miguel a favor and end things for real this time before you sic your next boyfriend on him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His words cut as deep as a gash. Was he suggesting she had anything to do with what Robby did during the school fight? Was he implying she in any way encouraged him to attack Miguel? Of course he was, she realized. He’d all but accused her of that at the hospital, hadn’t he?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s breath picked up and she struggled to catch it. Previous months’ worth of guilt and shame threatened to come crashing back down on her again; she fought inwardly to keep them at bay.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her free hand curled into a fist at his audacious implication. She’d had enough of Hawk and his attitude. Deciding she wasn’t thirsty after all, she jerked the lid off her bottle and tossed the water in his face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she declared with a huff, throwing her empty bottle back into the cooler and shoving him out of her way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wiping the wetness from his face with the back of his sleeve, Hawk watched Sam storm off to rejoin her teammates. He scowled. “Whatever you say, Princess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A week later, Hawk hovered his thumbs over his phone, staring at the screen for what felt like the hundredth time before finally typing: <em>hey can I come over tonite to talk abt smthng?</em> He hit send and soon enough it showed as delivered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’ve been listening to Mitch too much,” commented Chris, zipping up his jacket. “Sting is overrated. Has been our whole lifetimes, ever since he leaned into his dark gimmick against the NWO.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slipping his hands into his pockets, Hawk followed Chris out the Golf ’N Stuff exit. “No way, his corpse-paint look is iconic.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris arched his eyebrows, looking unimpressed by his opinion. “Listen, you’re still a novice about pro-wrestling history. I know what I’m talking about, I’ve been watching WWE with my dad since I was in diapers. I guess I’ll have to prove it to you Sting peaked during the early nineties.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s fingers fidgeted inside his pockets. It sounded like Chris was issuing an invitation. “Maybe during another pay-per-view night at Mitch’s place?” he suggested, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he was feeling. After two weeks of hovering around inside Golf ’N Stuff to back up Chris during his work shifts, Hawk was starting to appreciate his company. It was progress.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shrugging his shoulders, Chris let the corners of his mouth curl a little. “I might break out some DVDs.” Hawk watched his small smile fall, however, when Chris looked past him. “Hey, check that out,” he said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Following to where Chris was pointing, Hawk narrowed his eyes when he spotted Dieter, Edwin, and Mikey hanging out in the parking lot, congregated around the hood of Dieter’s car. The three Cobras spotted them, only taking a moment to pause in whatever was making them laugh with each other to give chin-juts in Hawk’s and Chris’s direction.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What are they doing here?” Hawk wondered out loud, furrowing his brows, glancing around to see if Kyler was nearby; or Tory; or Robby. None of them were to be found.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Making my life miserable, obviously,” muttered Chris in irritation, shaking his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them stood there in the lot, waiting a few minutes to see if the Cobras would come over and start harassing them. But Dieter, Edwin, and Mikey stayed where they were at, continuing to keep only each other for company. Whatever they were up to, apparently they weren’t planning on making any sort of move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Still, Hawk believed it was too much of a coincidence for his old crew to be innocently hanging around at Golf ’N Stuff. When he used to lead them, there had been nothing innocent about picking that spot before. He didn’t trust the situation. He wanted to go over there and put them in their place, to send a message to Cobra Kai that they’d better not try anything. But Hawk remembered Sensei Lawrence’s new rule: no starting fights; no striking first.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, at least they’re not starting any shit for now,” said Hawk. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t been waiting for Chris to get off from work to jump him. Perhaps the only thing that really had stopped them was him providing backup. Glancing beside him at Chris, Hawk asked, “You got another shift Thursday after practice? Five o’clock?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll be here,” promised Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri already said he’d cover,” replied Chris. Pulling out his car keys, his cautious smile returned when he added, “But, I mean, if you wanna work on your History paper here, I won’t stop you. Miguel keeps saying the more backup, the better, right? Provided you keeping buying pizza slices, of course. You know I can’t let you loiter.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk nodded back. “The TV at home would just distract me, anyway.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With a final goodbye, satisfied Cobra Kai wasn’t going to make a move, the two separated. While he walked over to his motorcycle, Hawk checked his phone. He’d gotten his reply: <em>sure! :)</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Driving to the house didn’t take long enough to give Hawk the time he wanted to think of the words he’d need. Neither did the short number of steps from the driveway to the porch, and the proverbial buzzer ran out when he pressed the doorbell. When the door opened, an excited face greeted him on the other side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eli, hey!” Demetri exclaimed, stepping aside for him to come in.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” Hawk returned, walking inside and kicking his shoes off by the door, a rule Demetri’s mother had long since drilled into him; one he hadn’t forgotten.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When was the last time he came over to Demetri’s house, Hawk pondered? It was before the Yelp review, that was all he could recollect because that had been the line he’d drawn. It had felt so important, so unforgivable, at the time. After that, Demetri became the enemy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Peering over his shoulder at the closet as Demetri led him down the hallway towards his room, Hawk was tempted to check and see if Demetri’s mom still had the old air mattress stored away in there. But he didn’t raise any question about it, instead sticking his hands in his pockets until they reached the end of the hall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes took a quick scan of the bedroom. Demetri had acquired new nerd shit over the past several months, no surprise there. But it still largely remained as Hawk remembered it. He bet he could still find where Demetri had his <em>Magic the Gathering</em> decks stashed. He never did get those back from him after their last session, the night before they’d decided to listen to Miguel and give Cobra Kai a shot.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri had <em>World of Warcraft</em> up on his desktop, probably what he’d been in the middle of playing when Hawk came over. Of course. Same old Demetri. “No Yasmine tonight?” asked Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heh, I wish,” replied Demetri with a chuckle. “She was back in Cruella-mode today, but tomorrow night we’re actually going to see <em>Replicas</em>. Considering I don’t think that’s really her type of movie, my guess is we’ll be doing more than just watching Keanu Reeves on the big screen. And I picked a seat for Nate a couple rows down from ours so he doesn’t impede on the make-out session. Yasmine seemed understanding. Mostly.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like it’ll be fun. I mean, except for Nate third-wheeling.” Hawk still didn’t understand the particulars of how Demetri and Yasmine made their relationship work, but apparently it <em>was</em> working, and he wanted to be happy on his friend’s behalf. After all, how many nights had they sat in this very room, talking about how they both wanted to find girlfriends?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That brought to mind what Demetri had told him that day on the soccer field, about how Moon had loved him. And he’d chased her away. And Hawk began to think perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to come over and talk about what he wanted to….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His vision fell to the floor, catching the way Demetri rubbed one striped-socked foot over the other. “So, was that the thing you wanted to talk about?” asked Demetri. Leaning into his dry humor, he added, “‘Cause if you wanna keep talking about my love life, I’m all for it. I’ve been on a real upswing lately.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk couldn’t hold back a tight-lipped smile as he snorted at that. But he couldn’t yet get his damn tongue to form the words he wanted to say, even when Demetri was practically giving him an opening.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When he said nothing, Demetri went on. Much like the way it used to be between them. Gesturing to the black box on his television stand, he said, “Unless you want me to hook up the Playstation and break out the <em>Minecraft</em>. Did I tell you I’m about eighty percent complete with replicating the Valley Mall? I just need to go take some pics of the new kiosks and Footlocker, and I’ll be close to done.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Why did he have to bring up the Valley Mall?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” answered Hawk, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. The word came out more curt than he’d intended.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Demetri must’ve gotten the wrong idea from it. He crossed his arms defensively and stared at him hard, his mouth twisted with sardonic annoyance. “Oh, is <em>the Hawk</em> still too wrapped up in his alpha jock cred for a little <em>Minecraft</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hearing the brusque way Demetri dropped his name like that piqued Hawk, but he took a second to swallow the irritation back down. Wasn’t it enough he let him call him Eli without raising a stink about it anymore? Couldn’t Demetri stick to that? “Look, can we talk serious for a sec?” asked Hawk, hands fidgeting in his pockets again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s eyes journeyed from his face to his mohawk and lingered there for a moment. “You’re gonna have to do something about that hair first,” he quipped.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Forget it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But when he turned to leave, Demetri grabbed his wrist. “No, wait, c’mon, I’m just giving you a hard time,” he remarked. “You owe me that much, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk looked at the right hand holding his wrist, traveling up to Demetri’s arm. His harsh brow softened. Maybe he did owe him that much. Maybe he couldn’t get too irritated that Demetri would be vigilant at the mere threat of him reverting back to behaviors that ultimately ended with Hawk snapping that arm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk didn’t answer the question one way or the other, simply standing there until Demetri let him go.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So,” continued Demetri, “what’s going on?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He sounded more sincere now, less guarded. So Hawk granted him the same courtesy in return, reminding himself he could break through the cracks in his walls around Demetri. They were friends again. That required rebuilding trust on both sides. And if Demetri could let him back inside his house without the fear he’d beat him up or pour beer on his head, then didn’t he owe him the benefit of the doubt that he would listen to what he had to say without ridicule or blasting it to anyone else?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can I get your opinion about something?” asked Hawk, shifting the weight between his feet. “It’s about Miguel.…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Understand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Wait, so explain it to me again so I understand.” Leaning back on his hands, Demetri stretched out his long legs so they hung off the edge of his bed. His dark eyebrows were knitted to the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of everything his friend had told him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Across from him at the desk, Hawk was slumped in Demetri’s gaming chair, picking at a fingernail in absent-minded distraction.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do you have any reason to think Miguel might be into guys, too?” asked Demetri point-blank.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk could have told him about when he and Miguel were joking with each other, how Miguel said he’d looked at dudes before. He wanted to tell Demetri, because he still wasn’t sure how serious Miguel had been about it. But it wasn’t his place to repeat it, was it? Because what if Miguel wasn’t joking but he wasn’t out and didn’t want others to know? They’d never brought it up among the three of them before.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He settled on saying, “I was giving him shit about his bad luck with chicks lately and told him maybe he should stick to guys from now on. Y’know, I was just messing around. But he didn’t freak out or anything. He seemed cool about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Sounds like you were testing the waters with him. Checking to see how he’d react, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Why was Demetri so good at reading him?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Hawk didn’t answer, Demetri added, “No, that was a pretty good way to go about it, if you ask me. I’m not judging you. I mean, you can’t really just go up to someone and be like, ‘By the way, are you bi, too?’ Now, if you’d sent him a text or something, you could’ve softened it by making the obvious pun, but—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can we please stay on topic?” remarked Hawk, letting out a frustrated sigh. “My point is, I should go ahead and make a move, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What about Sam?” asked Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What <em>about</em> Sam?” Hawk parried back. “They broke up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri gave him a cynical look, one that said he knew perfectly well what sort of mess was going on between Miguel and Sam and that it wasn’t as simple as them making a clean break. “I’m just sayin’, I like all three of you and I don’t want to see this get weird.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you don’t think I should do anything,” concluded Hawk. He didn’t know what else he should have expected from Demetri, even after all this time. That had always been Demetri’s philosophy: better to never try so you can say you never failed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Demetri surprised him when he retorted, “I’m not saying that. I mean, if there’s one thing I’ve learned perfectly clear over the last few months is that if you’re committed to doing something, I sure as hell can’t stop you anymore. And it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you? I don’t even know why you’re asking for <em>my</em> opinion.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Because you offered to talk about it before,” Hawk pointed out, crossing his arms, slouching even more in the chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s eyebrows rose on his forehead and he rubbed his thumb over his chin. “You got me there. But since you bring that up, tell me something. After you told me you’ve had a crush on Miguel, I’ve been thinking, this has been going on for a while, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shrugged. “Yeah, I guess,” he answered vaguely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was right before, wasn’t I?” asked Demetri. “It started this summer? Or even sooner?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his shoulders again, practically sinking into his hoodie the way he used to sink into oversized sweaters, Hawk retorted, “What difference does it make when it started?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri rolled his eyes at his dismissiveness but then said, “Well, it would make a difference, I guess, whether or not you’ve been dealing with this from before or after Miguel went to the hospital.” He spent the next few seconds simply staring at Hawk, who once more hated how good his friend was at reading him. “You could’ve reached out to me at the time,” explained Demetri when it became clear Hawk wasn’t going to explain himself. “After the school fight, I mean. Sure, I wasn’t part of your Cobra Kai cult, but Miguel’s my friend, too, y’know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk believed his sincerity but knew there was no way Demetri would have wanted to have him for company in the immediate aftermath of the fight. And not just because they’d been enemies at the time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Would Demetri have wanted to see the meltdown he’d had over it? To hear how he couldn’t even sleep the first few nights after Miguel’s fall without jolting awake, screaming from nightmares that left his sheets drenched in sweat and other, more embarrassing fluids? Did he want to know how many objects he’d broken in his room in impotent rage, knowing what happened to Miguel wasn’t fair but there being nothing at the time he could do about it?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Would Demetri want to learn how many hours he’d spent concocting revenge fantasies in his head, daydreaming about what he’d do to Miyagi-Do in order to make things right again when he had his chance?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If Demetri had been there with him so shortly after Miguel’s fall, Hawk knew chances were that he would’ve broken his arm much sooner than he did. It wasn’t something he was proud of knowing, sitting there in that room as he was now, but he couldn’t deny it was the truth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was really mad at all you guys in Miyagi-Do for what happened to Miguel,” Hawk admitted, staring blankly past Demetri at his poster-covered wall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But we had nothing to do with that,” argued Demetri. “That was Robby. And I still don’t know why he did it. We never talked after he got out of juvie. I wish I <em>did</em> know because nothing Mr. L has ever taught us would make what he did make sense, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk clenched his jaw. Sam could have broken Tory’s neck when she kicked her down. Mitch had gotten a light concussion when Chris slammed that textbook against his head. And Hawk remembered a nurse dug out bits of glass from his hands when his parents had taken him to get patched up; the nurse said he’d been lucky he didn’t knick a vein getting kicked into a trophy case like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby wasn’t the exception to Miyagi-Do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk beat that thought down. He took a moment to remind himself he needed to stop viewing all of Miyagi-Do as his enemy. Demetri wasn’t his enemy. And at least Demetri agreed with him that Robby was to blame for what happened to Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I wish I’d broken Robby’s arm instead of yours,” he muttered, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s eyes widened, and his mouth slackened in shock. He looked hurt. “Eli, you shouldn’t have wanted to break <em>anyone’s</em> arm!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s hands balled into fists now. “Maybe not, but I <em>did</em> want to, alright!” he snapped. It was no use lying to himself and pretending he didn’t. Sam told him he was horrible. Mr. LaRusso said he’d been a monster. Neither of them was wrong.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eli—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk cut Demetri off, his eyes darting as words started rambling out of his mouth. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if Miguel didn’t show mercy, if he’d just snapped Robby’s arm when he had him down. All I wanted to do was fix his mistake because it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t his fault! And then when we had our fight at Golf ’N Stuff, I took my chance. I know you said you’d just leave if I let you go, but all I could think about was that Robby didn’t! And I-I thought if I went through with it, it would finally make things right. It would be like Miguel never fell at all, that things would go back to normal. But obviously they didn’t….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even as he sat there and caught his breath, Hawk had to admit it felt strangely good to let that out, to talk about it and get it off his chest. That good feeling dissipated, however, when he looked at Demetri. His friend’s mouth hung open and his whole body seemed to droop in sadness. His left hand had made its way over to lay on his right arm. And Hawk realized it had been stupid to unload that on Demetri, of all people. He didn’t need to hear it, even if he’d offered to listen.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s striped feet rubbed themselves together again as he stared down the edge of the bed at them. “You know, when I was in the hospital getting that cast on my arm, I kept wondering how you could go through with it, even after I begged you to let me go. I couldn’t understand why, no matter how hard I tried. And the only conclusion I could come up with was it must’ve been because you really hated me. Combined with everything else, I started to get worried that maybe, deep down, you <em>always</em> hated me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">How could Hawk begin to explain that it was never Demetri he’d truly hated? Just the things about Demetri that reminded him of the things he hated in himself. <em>Fuck that self-pity shit,</em> thought Hawk, clenching his fists on his lap again. It wouldn’t make any difference, especially now. What was done was done.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t hate you,” Hawk assured him, feeling like a clown for saying that to someone whose arm he snapped in two.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri remained on the bed, and it was obvious from the way his face was contorted that he was processing everything; he probably would be for a while. But when he spoke next, he told Hawk, “I’m glad you told me.” The two of them stared at each other for a long, quiet moment, and with that nonverbal agreement they both knew they were done talking for the night. It would be a lot for the two of them to sleep on anyway. No use adding anything more for now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s getting late, I should head home,” Hawk announced, standing from his chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri gave a small nod as Hawk headed to the door. “I can imagine your parents probably don’t like you driving that deathtrap nearer to eleven at night, do they? For as long as I’ve known them, I can’t even believe they got you a motorcycle.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk paused when his hand touched the knob. Glancing over his shoulder at his friend again, he said, “Chris told me you’re gonna be at Golf ’N Stuff with him on Thursday.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri affirmed, “Yeah, figured I might try beating the skeeball record while I’m there. Maybe I’ll earn enough tickets to get Yasmine a stuffed pegasus or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I told him I’ll be there, too….” Hawk paused an awkward moment, shifting uncomfortably on his feet again, letting his eyes fall from Demetri over to his desk. He looked at the top drawer, and he remembered again that night forever ago, the night they’d agreed they would try out Cobra Kai. He considered asking if Demetri wanted to bring their <em>Magic the Gathering</em> decks, but at the last second what came out was, “I’ll help you beat the skeeball record, if you want.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He glanced back at Demetri to watch as his expression evolved from perplexed uncertainty to one of surprised pleasure. “Yeah!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s Trig textbook laid open on the living room table that Thursday night, along with the half-finished homework he’d been chipping away at before his phone distracted him. The group chat had been going off, one text after another. He scrolled through the conversation, hoping a diversion might help clear his mind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate: <em>need to stop by the store after practice tmw can one of u take me?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch: <em>u cool w/ riding on a motorcycle? I need to pickup a new charger and bottle of miralax anyway</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate:<em> literally nobody wants to hear about ur diarrhea probs penis breath</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch: <em>1st it’s for my dad, 2nd u take it to clean the pipes dipshit, 3rd u can’t call me that</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam: <em>omg can we pls change topic? Nate I’ll take u</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Setting his phone on the table, Miguel picked up his pencil and tried concentrating on his homework again. But the ridiculous turn the conversation had taken couldn’t help but send his thoughts spiraling back to that night when Kyler dumped Pepto<span class="s1">-</span>Bismol on his head, christening him with the nickname Rhea. The fact that Kyler still had the audacity to call him that after two beatdowns made him fume.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It also made it difficult to work on his Trigonometry.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel lifted his head when he heard the door open and peeked over the back of the couch to see his mother coming in. Judging by her messy nurse scrubs and how disheveled her hair looked in its ponytail, it must’ve been a rough day at work. “Hey, Mom,” he said as she walked past him towards the hallway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Miggy,” she replied before heading to her room. He then heard her call out, “Where’s your Ya-Ya?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Over at Camila’s,” answered Miguel, tapping his pencil against his notebook. His brow creased deeper as he forced himself to stare harder at the math problem. Only to then toss his pencil down a minute later. Deciding the homework was going to have to wait a little longer, Miguel grabbed his phone again and pulled up Instagram to check his feed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert had posted a pic of a hamster his parents had gotten him, announcing to everyone he’d named his new pet Clarence II. In the comments, Sam had left a heart-eyes emoji, telling Bert she thought the hamster was cute. Mitch had responded, “RIP in Peace, Clarence the First.” Hawk had replied to that post with emojis of prayer hands, a peace sign, a snake, and a skull head. Miguel figured there was some story there he’d have to ask details on later.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His eyes flew open wide at the next picture: Tory and Robby hanging out at a skatepark. His heart practically jumped into his throat before Miguel remembered he’d never unfollowed Tory. But it had been so long since she’d posted anything, he’d forgotten all about it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory hadn’t blocked him yet. He couldn’t imagine why. She considered him a traitor to Cobra Kai. Miguel figured he should make the first move then and block her, just in case, but it didn’t feel right. A needling feeling tugged at his insides, even as his thumb hovered over the button to block her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He moved that thumb away. Maybe she would see the pictures he’d taken of everyone at the dojo, he thought. Perhaps she would see them and realize there could be a place for her there, too. Yes, things between them had ended all sorts of ugly, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about her at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Those pics of him and Sam together from earlier in the month probably weren’t helping, though.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But seeing her standing there with Robby, remembering that Robby was Cobra Kai now….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel looked up again when his mother came back into the living room, dressed in a fresh change of clothes. “I’m feeling up for some ice-cream,” she said, resting her elbows on the back of the couch as she leaned over to give him a tired smile. “How does that sound to you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Um, sounds great,” answered Miguel. That was an unexpected treat. And it would be a better distraction from his homework than Instagram turned out to be. He furrowed his brows as he stood up, slipping his phone in his back pocket. “What’s the occasion?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen walked with him towards the door, grabbing her purse and keys off the kitchen table where she’d placed them. “The occasion is work was long, I’m exhausted, and ice-cream is delicious,” she explained, wrapping her arm over his shoulders.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Those were all the reasons Miguel needed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They drove down a few blocks down to the local creamery. Carmen got a single scoop cup of strawberry while Miguel licked on a cone of chocolate ice-cream. While they sat down to enjoy their desserts, his mother began with small talk, asking how he’d done in school that week, whether or not he was still struggling with burnout.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then the conversation turned to his extracurricular activity. “How have things been in karate?” she asked. It didn’t take much detection behind that question to hear the concern in her voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel answered on reflex, “Things are good.” He took a big bite of his cone, hoping it would put an end to that line of questioning. He ought to have known better that it wouldn’t work.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Explain ‘good’,” said Carmen before eating another spoonful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shrugged. “Things were kinda touch-and-go for a while, but they’re starting to pick up now. Tomorrow, Sensei and Mr. LaRusso are gonna have us do a fighting circle.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A wrinkle creased between Carmen’s brows. “Fighting circle, what’s that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, don’t worry,” replied Miguel, swallowing another lick of chocolate ice-cream, “it’s just where you stand in the middle of a circle and others come at you. It’s to test your reflexes and defense. It’s not like I’m being ganged up on. Although, honestly, I kinda wish they’d stop being so timid around me. But Sensei’s leading the students this class so I know they at least shouldn’t hold back this time.” At least he hoped so. Sometimes even Sensei still didn’t act like he could handle it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t miss the expression on his mother’s face when he mentioned Sensei Lawrence. But he couldn’t place what that sudden somber contort in her features, the way her eyes looked down, meant. And since she said nothing about it, neither did he, choosing instead to take another bite of his cone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Setting her empty cup to the side, Carmen rested her hands together on the table in front of her, giving Miguel an exhorted stare. “I know you’re impatient to get back to normal. I understand you’re frustrated. These last few months have been so difficult for you, but please be sure not to be too hard on yourself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel was tired of hearing people tell him that. They all still saw him as he was in the hospital, completely debilitated. They refused to see how much stronger he had gotten, even when it was happening right in front of their own eyes. They would sooner keep treating him with kid gloves forever on rather than give him a legitimate chance to prove himself, wouldn’t they? But of course he couldn’t say that to his mother. “I need to be ready in time for the Tournament,” he tried explaining instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know that even if you don’t win the championship this year, things will be okay,” Carmen promised her son.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her words still sent Miguel’s insides sinking. She had that same look on her face Sensei Lawrence did after that day in the park, when he said he couldn’t risk him getting hurt after he fell to the ground after a single kick. Did his mother not believe he had it in him to win? Didn’t she understand the stakes? He <em>had</em> to win. To get Sensei Kreese out of the Valley, to get his trophy back, to get some closure with Robby after what he did to him. In order for all that to come to fruition, Miguel had to <em>win</em>. He had to show everyone he could do it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He crunched the last couple bites of his cone. The ice-cream now sat in his stomach like a cold stone, weighing him down. And he knew there was no use arguing with his mother about it. “Yeah, sure.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen gave Miguel a sad smile, reaching across the table to put her hand over his. “Okay. As long as you understand that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel’s breath picked up when he started thinking about how the next morning would mark the beginning of February. The All-Valley Tournament was in May. Four months away. January had flown by and so much time had been lost to the fighting between Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso. He should’ve been further along now than he was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He would have to work twice as hard now. Power forward. Take matters into his own hands, if necessary.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tomorrow was a new month. And it was time to get super serious. No more letting the guys hold back. No more taking their apologies for landing a hit on him. No more tolerating their expressions of pity if he didn’t land a move himself. All of Eagle Fang still looked to him as their leader and he was going to show them he took their confidence seriously.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Having finished their dessert, they stood up to leave and tossed their trash into the garbage can. Exiting the establishment, Carmen wrapped her arm around Miguel’s shoulders while they walked back to the car and affectionately kissed the top of his head. “You know I love you, Miggy,” she said, rubbing his arm warmly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His cheeks burned in embarrassment, and the adolescent chagrin he felt made him glad there wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot there at night to see such open maternal sentiment on display. But, with that being the case, he smiled back, and some of his previous frustrations dissipated as he remembered what his mom had been going through the last few months, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She’d been there through it all: his fall, his surgery, his physical therapy, his recovery, watching him get back in the game. Through all his struggles, his ups and downs, his highs and lows, she’d been his constant. Sometimes it was too easy for him to lose sight of that and take it for granted that his mother must have been going through unimaginable hurt as much as he had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaning into her embrace a little, Miguel told her, “Love you, too, Mom.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Find Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">When the final bell rang, Hawk strolled down the hallway, passing his soccer ball between his hands until he got to his locker. Setting it down at his feet, he did the quick right-left-right of his combination. As soon as he opened it, reaching in to grab the books he’d need for that night’s homework assignments, his peripheral vision made him do a double-take when his eyes spotted something that definitely hadn’t been there last period.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Someone had taped a yellow piece of paper on the back of his locker door. On it was a drawing of a cobra, coiled around its prey, mouth open and fangs bared. On closer inspection, he realized the prey was a hawk, <em>his</em> hawk, with its red crest and everything. And if the intent behind that wasn’t obvious enough, the crude words written below it broadcasted the message loud and clear:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>bye bye birdie</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s head darted up, scanning around him to see if the culprit was still nearby. And he was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler and his crew were congregated further down the hall, laughing with each other. His old teammates must’ve been waiting for him to find this, to see his reaction, because when Kyler caught him looking in their direction, he reacted with a smile and a wink, shooting him a finger-gun.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Scowling, Hawk ripped the paper from his locker and crumbled it into a ball, stuffing it in his backpack, along with the books he’d been there for.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Hawk!"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sup,” greeted Hawk, shutting his locker door as Miguel walked up to him. Pushing the menacing message he’d received to the back of his mind, he bent down to grab his soccer ball and asked, “Hey, after practice did you wanna head over to the park and maybe kick the ball around?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds fun, but I was actually gonna ask about after practice,” said Miguel, shifting his backpack’s weight over one of his shoulders. “Once the lesson’s done, can you and me do some one-on-one at the dojo?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk grinned. “Sure!” He and Miguel hadn’t sparred together since they were both still at Cobra Kai. The thought of getting to practice with him again made Hawk feel lighter than air. His giddiness, however, was tempered by the seriousness in Miguel’s voice when he asked him that. “The others aren’t giving you much of a challenge, huh?” he asked. “That’s why you’re coming to the Hawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel huffed, stuffing his hands into his track pants. Judging by his frown and the way his eyebrows were practically knitted together, he looked like he was at his limits. “You saw what happened on Friday in the fighting circle. And didn’t you think it was weird Sensei never picked you to come at me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk twirled the ball in his hands. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the others, especially from Miyagi-Do, were going easy on Miguel, but he hadn’t thought it was significant at the time that Sensei Lawrence hadn’t ever selected him to attack Miguel in the circle. “Do you think it was on purpose? Why though?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Because you’re the only one who won’t hold back, especially if I ask you not to,” declared Miguel, squaring his shoulders back. “And that’s what I’m asking you right now. I wanna fight you. And I mean a <em>real</em> fight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s mouth dried, his previous enthusiasm starting to wane even as he forced the smile to stay on his face. “Wait, you mean like a street fight?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I mean like a <em>Cobra Kai</em> fight. It’s the only way to find out if I’m ready to face them yet.” Miguel’s determination couldn’t be ignored. He was serious.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before either of them could say anything else, a voice shouted, “Get the hell out of our way, nerd!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel and Hawk glanced down the hallway in time to see Kyler smack Nathaniel’s stack of books out of his hands as he passed by him, sending them flying to the floor. Miguel’s fists clenched in his pockets. He knew the Cobras wouldn’t keep to the truce. And they were only more likely to get bolder the closer they got to the All-Valley Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Trudging over to the Cobras, Hawk right behind him, Miguel stepped between Kyler and Nate, giving the younger boy a chance to kneel to the ground and pick up his books. “Just can’t keep your hands to yourself until the All-Valley, can you?” Miguel remarked, narrowing his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Get your eyes checked, Rhea. The little nerd walked right into us. Not our fault he’s a klutz.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Shut your lying face, dickhead!” Nate called out from where he was squatting.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What’d you say to me?” challenged Kyler, taking a threatening step towards the Miyagi-Do student, making Nate flinch. But Miguel cut him off again. Kyler looked about ready to check him for that, so Hawk, dropping his soccer ball without hesitation, shoved Kyler back. The other Cobras stood up straight, suddenly alert and ready to back up their teammate at the first signal things were about to get serious.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Kyler held up a hand to quell them. “Remember what Sensei said,” he reminded.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel scoffed at that. For good measure, he closed the gap and got up in Kyler’s face as close as he could, short of actually touching him, sending the message that nothing he did could intimidate him. “This is your warning now: back off.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why don’t you strike first and make me?” Kyler taunted back, harsh grin spreading over his mouth. “Oh, that’s right, you pussies at Chickenshit Karate don’t do that anymore, do you?” There was no way things wouldn’t erupt between their dojos before the Tournament. Miguel was sure of that now, and it only strengthened his resolve that he needed to see if he was ready to handle their style of ruthlessness.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For the moment, though, he tried to keep Sensei Lawrence’s wishes in mind, to keep as much distance between Eagle Fang and Cobra Kai as possible. One day Kyler would get what was coming to him again. But now wasn’t the time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So, letting out a harsh breath, Miguel turned around and asked Nate, “You okay?” He did his best to ignore the hoots and jeers of Kyler and the other Cobras as they mocked him for being the bigger man, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. It wasn’t easy. He hated the sound of Kyler’s contemptuous laughter so much.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m fine,” muttered Nate, sticking his last book in his backpack and zipping it up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s just get out of here,” Miguel suggested to Nate and Hawk, who reached down to pick up his soccer ball.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But when the three of them headed towards the stairs, Hawk stopped. He still had one more thing to take care of. “I forgot something in my locker,” he told Miguel. “Go on, I’ll see you guys at the dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Miguel and Nate continued walking downstairs, Hawk flipped his backpack from over his shoulder. Stuffing his soccer ball on top of his books, he reached his arm down and pulled out the paper he’d crammed at the bottom of the bag earlier. Zipping it, he sauntered back to Kyler and his crew again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What?” challenged Kyler. “You got something you wanna say, too?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk uncrumpled the paper in his hands, presenting it to the Cobras. “You think this is supposed to scare me?” he asked Kyler, his expression hardening like stone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Looking at the picture of the cobra and hawk, Kyler chuckled. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, wasn’t me,” he chortled. Raising his eyebrows, he turned to the Cobra nearest to him and asked, “Yo, Mikey, did you do this? You’re in art class, right? Damn, that’s pretty good, bro.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Cobras all joined in laughing at that, making Hawk’s muscles tense. But as much as he wanted to wipe that smug smile off Kyler’s face, he remembered he couldn’t go around starting the fights anymore, much less at school. So instead, an uncanny grin of his own curled up the side of his mouth. He joined in with their little chuckle at his expense.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When that caught Kyler off guard, making his enemy’s smile fall, Hawk grinned even harder. “You’re right, it is pretty good,” he said. Then, looking Kyler straight in the eyes, he asked, “By the way, how’s Brucks doing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All humor dropped from the Cobras. Hawk watched as Kyler’s face hardened now, obviously trying to mask how that comment had hit. But Kyler said nothing, clenching his jaw instead. After all, what could he say? Hawk knew he wouldn’t defend a loser in front of his new crew. Because he’d done the same thing to Mitch after he lost to Kyler. Cobra Kai made you turn on your friends under Sensei Kreese’s rule. A true Cobra didn’t feel sympathy for its meals.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“They took the wire out of his jaw by now, right?” Hawk continued, twisting the knife further. Kyler’s face tightened even more. Hawk recognized that look. He knew Kyler would have loved nothing more than to strangle him for that. It was clear some part of him wanted to get him back for wrecking Brucks’s face in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In a different universe, Hawk might have felt some sympathy for Kyler for that lingering bit of loyalty he had for his friend.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But for now, he kept going, relishing in the way Kyler’s eyes finally dropped, unable to hold his glare. “Why don’t you ask him what it was like drinking his meals through a straw? Because if you threaten me or my teammates again….” Hawk paused, shoving the paper hard against Kyler’s chest. “Fuck around and find out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso were in the front lot after practice, sharing a drink and talking about cars. Miguel was glad. He didn’t want the teachers there right now, even Sensei Lawrence. Friday with the fighting circle had felt like a betrayal. And Miguel figured if Sensei wasn’t going to give the others the okay to treat him like he wouldn’t easily break, it was time he went all-in on his own. Eagles could strike as hard as Cobras.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“How many points?” asked Hawk, taking his place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No points,” Miguel answered, getting in position, too. “This isn’t a tournament. We keep going until the fight’s over.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk furrowed his brows at that order. His previous misgivings that cropped up when Miguel suggested this at school rose in his chest again. It sounded more like something Sensei Kreese would say. Hadn’t he left Cobra Kai to get away from that? And hadn’t he been looking to Miguel, even more than Sensei Lawrence, to help him understand what it meant to be an Eagle Fang? Still, if this was what Miguel wanted…. “You got it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“This is so stupid,” commented Sam from the sidelines, anger clear in her tone and in the way she stood there crossing her arms. She’d made it clear she wasn’t thrilled with Miguel’s plan after he told her what he was planning on doing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Beside her, Demetri nodded in agreement. “Definitely a prime example of toxic masculinity,” he noted dryly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel ignored both their inputs. It was time to find out what he was made of now. Hawk was currently the toughest fighter in the dojo. If he could take him, he could take anyone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wait, you and Hawk are having a match?” asked Mitch after he’d retrieved his bag and saw his teammates getting into fighting stances. When Chris walked past him, he grabbed his arm to stop him, saying, “Wait, Chris, let’s stay and watch! This is gonna be badass!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shook his head. “No way, man, you said you were covering me on my shift tonight <em>and</em> buying me pizza. And I can’t be late, so let’s get going.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch let out a frustrated sigh. Before he followed Chris out the gate, he told Bert, “Record it for me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You bet,” promised Bert, pulling out his phone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel and Hawk faced each other and did their bows. Then, without hesitation, Miguel attacked, leading with a kick aimed at Hawk’s shin. Hawk lunged forward, dodging it before twirling around and delivering a round kick of his own towards Miguel’s upper body. Miguel had to drop down fast to avoid it; he had a split-second to appreciate how far his reflex speed had come in the past couple of months.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two boys stood up and put some distance between each other, raising their fists in defense. Hawk then came at Miguel with a fast forward punch. As quick as a flash, Miguel’s left hand shot out to push the arm out of its path, and then he drove his right elbow into Hawk’s collarbone. Before his opponent could recover, Miguel wrapped his foot around Hawk’s extended leg and swept it back, sending Hawk falling to the ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Awesome! Kick his ass, Miguel!” cheered on Nate from beside Bert.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk didn’t stay down long. Climbing to his feet, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Miguel’s torso and attempted to slam him down. But Miguel grabbed his wrists and twisted them hard, slithering out of his hold with a dip of his body.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He grunted when Hawk’s next kick landed on his shoulder, but countered, blocking his friend’s following punch. His own fist flew forward, smashing against Hawk’s ribs. Hawk responded by slamming an elbow into his chin, sending Miguel stumbling backward on his heels.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stepped forward with a straight punch, which Miguel leaned back to dodge. It was a fake-out, however, as Hawk lunged his other leg forward, striking the backs of Miguel’s thighs, this time sending him falling down. As soon as he hit the ground, Hawk dropped to his knees and punched him in the gut once, twice, three times.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s enough!” called out Sam, wrapping her hands around her arms tighter. “You landed the point, cut it out!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to yell out that he’d said there were no points. Sensei Kreese’s Cobra Kai didn’t give a damn about points, Sam knew that as well as the rest of them. They had to meet their enemies on their level, he wanted her to understand that. But when Hawk hit him in the stomach again, Miguel drove his knee up, delivering a blow to his friend’s gut in return. When that made Hawk double-over, he grabbed him by fistfuls of his shirt and rolled them over on the grass.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He landed one punch on Hawk’s jaw, just to give him enough time to get back on his feet and put distance between them again. Watching as Hawk rose up, too, the two of them stood there for a moment, catching their breaths and staring at each other, arms raised in case the other attacked next.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Which Hawk did this round. He closed the gap, running forward and spinning his leg around to kick high. Miguel leaped back, almost tripping over his feet. Hawk spun around again with another kick, and this time Miguel’s back hit the stone monument and he had only a split-second to duck and run before Hawk’s foot would have connected to the side of his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel turned around, only to meet Hawk’s fist as it struck his face, sending him reeling backward. Blinking the stars from his watering eyes rapidly, Miguel felt something wet drip from his nose down to his lip. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, getting back into a defensive stance. His heart was thundering in his ribcage by this point, lungs gasping for air.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam took a step forward, practically having chewed her bottom lip raw with concern. “Miguel, stop it!” she shouted. “What do you think you have to prove to us?” When he ignored her, Sam shook her head in disbelief and ran off towards the house.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate had lost his previous enthusiasm, looking like he didn’t know what to do. Even Bert hesitantly lowered his phone, stopping the recording at the sight of Miguel’s bloody face. The two of them glanced at each other, wondering if they should interfere, wondering if they even could.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now Demetri tried stepping in, grabbing Hawk’s arm. When Hawk reared his other fist to attack on reflex, Demetri flinched, jumping a few steps back and raising his hands, which brought Hawk crashing back to reality. Demetri hollered at him in exasperation, “Earth to Eli! Don’t you think the fight’s over?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shoulders rising and falling rapidly, Hawk looked down at his hands. Miguel’s blood was smeared over his right knuckles. Hawk’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of it, thinking back to his fight with Brucks again, to that time he lost himself to his rage.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk turned to look at Miguel, and his sweaty brow softened as he watched more blood pour from his friend’s nose. He remembered that night at the LaRussos. Kyler had beaten Miguel to a pulp and had looked to him for props for it. Seeing Miguel’s blood on <em>his</em> hands now? It made Hawk sick to his stomach. This wasn’t what he was hoping for when Miguel asked him to spar.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stood up straight, lowering his defenses. Maybe the fight <em>was</em> finished. This wasn’t Cobra Kai, right? “Miguel…."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No.” Miguel shook his head at seeing Hawk drop his guard, wiping more blood on his sleeve. There was that look again. The same one everyone else always had. That open pity. No, not Hawk, too. Not Hawk, the one who thought he was good enough for them to take on all of Cobra Kai together. “Kreese’s Cobra Kai wouldn’t end this fight now, you know that. So neither will we!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel lunged forward, shifting his waist to deliver a kick to Hawk’s side. His friend recovered in time to pivot on his feet and avoid it, slipping right back into fighting-mode. All Miguel could think of as he moved his arm to block one, two, three of Hawk’s punches was the fight that night in December. Of Cobra Kai attacking his teammates. Of Kyler beating the shit out of him. He should have been able to defeat him so much sooner. He should have been able to take control of the fight. He should’ve been able to protect his friends. He was the champ….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk came at him with a forward kick. Miguel blocked it with his hand and rotated around on his heels, ramming his elbow into Hawk’s back. He grabbed the back of Hawk’s shirt before he could fall and punched him in the back again before letting him drop.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On the grass, Hawk lifted himself up on his elbows. He locked his left ankle around Miguel’s and twisted hard, sending his friend tumbling down to the ground, too. Miguel rolled over, snaking his arms around Hawk, trying to keep him immobilized, even as Hawk jerked around, gripping fistfuls of his shirt and attempting to push him off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All of a sudden, arms wrapped themselves around Miguel’s torso, pulling him up to his feet. Miguel twisted around to see it was Mr. LaRusso. “Miguel, that’s enough!” he said. But Miguel had already gone slack in his hold, providing no resistance, the fight drained out of him the second he’d been pulled away from it. And it took only a few more seconds for embarrassment and shame to wash over him, especially when he looked over to see Sensei Lawrence jerk Hawk up off the ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What the hell’s the matter with you two?!” demanded Sensei Lawrence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even Mr. LaRusso looked surprised by the intensity of Sensei Lawrence’s response; it was a far cry from the flippant reaction he’d shown that day when Mitch had kicked Nate into the koi pond. Mr. LaRusso tried interceding. “Johnny….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I got this, LaRusso,” said Sensei Lawrence, holding up a hand to silence him, glaring between Miguel and Hawk. “These two meatheads are my students, I’ll handle them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso released him, and Miguel stared at Sam, who stood behind her father, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. The sting of betrayal punctured Miguel as he realized she’d run off to grab her father and Sensei so they would stop the match.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For the next few minutes, Miguel’s head might as well have been submerged underwater, it was so numb to everything around him. Someone - Bert? - handed him a rag, which he absent-mindedly wiped across his face, cleaning as much of the blood away as he could manage, as well as the sweat dripping from his hair. He barely registered Mr. LaRusso gathering Sam, Demetri, Nate, and Bert, leading them away. He didn’t hear Demetri trying to explain to his teacher why this had happened. Because Sensei Lawrence was in front of him, demanding answers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His Sensei’s words sounded garbled to his ears as Miguel tried deciphering them through the fog in his head, but his anger was unmistakable. That came through just fine. “What were you even thinking?” bellowed Sensei, deep creases around the corners of his frowning mouth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s brain went blank. How could he explain himself? How could he explain that he’d had enough? That his frustrations surrounding his lack of progress, along with the looming threat of Cobra Kai, had unnerved him to the point he decided the only way he felt he could face his discontent was trial by fire? Could Sensei Lawrence understand that? “I-I don’t know, Sensei.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence wore his disappointment, twinged with concern, openly on his face. And Miguel looked down, shoulders slumping to be on the receiving end of a look like that. Even worse when Sensei told him, “Well, figure it out!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stared at Miguel throughout his chew-out, but then Sensei Lawrence was up in his face next, raising his index finger at him. Hawk met his stern gaze, bracing himself. “And you,” Sensei said. “Do you know what I had to do to get LaRusso to even let you in this dojo after the shit you pulled at his house last Christmas?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s head darted up again and he looked at him. “Sensei, actually it was—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Quiet!” barked Sensei Lawrence, making both Miguel and Hawk tense. “You’re not in Cobra Kai anymore! As far as you’re concerned, Cobra Kai is dead! You left that ‘no mercy’ bullshit back with Kreese, do you understand me?” Sensei Lawrence snapped, getting closer and closer to jabbing that finger on Hawk’s chest as he wagged it for emphasis with each word.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Hawk’s eyes fell. His jaw was clenched so tight, he thought he might break it, but he managed to mutter in reply, “Yes, Sensei.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Pity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“You heading home?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk paused at his motorcycle, glancing over his shoulder to see Miguel standing there, hands in his pockets. At least the swelling in his nose looked a little better after Sensei Lawrence had made him hold an ice-cold beer can on it while he’d finished chewing them out. “Actually, I’m thinking of heading to the park to unwind for a while,” Hawk answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alone?” asked Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shifting the weight on his feet as he turned around, Hawk shrugged. “I don’t think the others are gonna jump at the chance to hang out with me right now, y’know?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel licked his bottom lip, eyes falling to his sneakers. The other guys were undeniably unnerved by their ill-advised fight, he couldn’t deny that; even Bert had looked uncomfortable by how intense it had gotten by the end of it. And it sunk in for Miguel that they were liable to hold that against Hawk more than they were him; after all, the Miyagi-Dos considered him their Token Good Ex-Cobra. Not to mention landing Hawk in the shit with Sensei over it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d asked Hawk to spar that that might happen. His gut clenched in regret. He hadn’t thought any of that through. As the team leader of Eagle Fang, he knew he should have.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, you know the pact we all agreed to, nobody should hang out alone for too long,” he reminded his friend. Truth be told, Miguel didn’t want to be in the van with Sensei Lawrence when he drove him and the other Eagles home. He couldn’t stand the disappointment that practically radiated from Sensei right now. So he decided he could use some time to unwind, too. “You still up for kicking the ball around?” he asked Hawk, his mouth curling in a small smile.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk returned it. Reaching to the bag on his bike, he unhooked the spare helmet and tossed it to Miguel. “Hop on.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The drive from Miyagi-Do to the park nearest to Reseda Heights went by in a flash. The park lights were already on as the orange evening sky had started to darken. But the two of them went ahead with their soccer game for a while. It was nice to concentrate on something else, if only for an hour or so.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel kicked the ball up in the air and made a spectacle of juggling it on his head eight, nine, ten times before it finally dropped, drawing good-spirited laughter from him. He still had it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Showoff,” commented Hawk as he passed him, stealing the ball. Miguel raced to try and steal it back. Hawk rolled the ball on top of his toes, kicked it up, and then punted it forward. Miguel tried to block it with his chest, only to miss by a wide shot. The ball flew halfway across the field. Running his fingers through his hair, Miguel let out an exhausted sigh at the thought of having to jog over to retrieve it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m gonna be real, dude,” confessed Miguel, a cheesy grin plastered over his face, “I’m so sore right now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled, playfully nudging him on the shoulder. “Yeah. Me, too. You gave as good as you got.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Too wiped from their karate match for any intense gameplay, they settled on simply kicking the soccer ball back and forth to each other. And while the physical activity calmed, Miguel’s mind started to drift back to practice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Watching as Hawk bounced the ball over and over on his knee, Miguel told him, “Hey, about the others, about what happened today, don’t worry about it. The guys at Miyagi-Do, they’re still a little weirded out by how intense things can get at Eagle Fang, but they’ll get over it soon. I bet they’ll have forgotten it by tomorrow.” He couldn’t even believe that obvious exaggeration as it left his mouth. He deserved that bewildered expression Hawk leveled at him now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Give me a break, man,” Hawk replied, letting the ball drop and passing it to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Catching it with the inside of his foot, Miguel cringed. “I’ll try talking to them,” he offered instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t bother,” said Hawk, rolling his eyes with a scoff. Miguel offering to speak to the others reminded him of the times his parents said they’d talk to the parents of the kids who taunted him, like they could <em>make</em> them be nice to him. He didn’t care either way whether the Miyagi-Dos were <em>nice</em> to him, even if constantly being around their bad vibes was draining. “Look, the Miyagi-Dos hate me, they have since day one of the dojo-merge, this isn’t anything new.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“They don’t hate you,” argued Miguel. Then, immediately correcting himself, he amended, “Well, Demetri doesn’t hate you.” He punted the ball back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri’s scared of me,” Hawk stated bluntly, stopping the soccer ball with the sole of his sneaker; and to think there was a time there when he loved having his friend terrified of him, but now it sunk his gut thinking about it. When Miguel opened his mouth to reply, he cut him off, adding, “And, yeah, I know it’s because I broke his arm. Just like I know all the reasons the other guys hate me, too. I’m not looking for any pity, I’m only stating the facts.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next kick was particularly harsh, and Miguel had to rush to catch it before it went off course down the field again. Picking it up off the ground, he twirled it in his hands and strolled over to Hawk. “I wasn’t going to give you pity,” he told him honestly. “I was gonna say, hasn’t Chris started warming up to you, at least a little?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pressed his mouth in a line, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I guess,” he conceded with a shrug. Miguel had a point there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“See?” said Miguel, raising his eyebrows. “Like I said before, just give them all some time. It’s only been a month. And as for Demetri, have you guys had a real talk about that? Y’know, about the arm?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swallowed the lump that jumped to his throat, remembering the night in Demetri’s room. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Hawk said nothing more, Miguel could only nod. “Okay.” He wished he had solid advice to give but he knew the truth was this was something Hawk and Demetri had to figure out themselves. Only time could heal rifts like those Hawk had driven between himself and the others. “I need a break, let’s go sit down for a bit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel walked over and sat on one of the nearby swings, dropping the soccer ball in the pit of wood chips surrounding the swing set. Hawk climbed on the one next to his, standing on the seat, gripping the yellow chains holding it up with his hands to keep himself balanced; the tips of his mohawk barely missed touching the top bar.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, hopefully things aren’t <em>too</em> awkward at practice tomorrow,” said Miguel, rocking back and forth on his swing a little.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk tilted his head down at him. “What’s the lesson, do you know?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shrugged. “Dunno. Well, Mr. LaRusso did mention we should bring clothes we didn’t mind getting wet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe a trip to the beach?” suggested Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“In February?” asked Miguel, continuing to swing. “Who knows? Sam says Miyagi-Do also thinks outside the box. Something to do with the koi pond, that’s more likely. Either way, it’s probably gonna be a while before Mr. LaRusso lets you and me spar again in class after today. Shit, maybe even Sensei will agree with him at this point on that.” He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. “Damn, I really fucked up, didn’t I?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk gave him a sympathetic look. “Nah, man. Hey, I was serious when I said it’s gonna be me and you in the finals this year. So I’ll still help you train for the All-Valley anyway I can,” he promised. “But eh, maybe no more street fights, though. I mean, I’m cool with kicking your ass and all, just not like <em>that</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A faint grin spread over Miguel’s mouth. “If I recall, by the end of that fight, I was kicking <em>your</em> ass,” he pointed out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Were you? Can’t remember,” joked Hawk, shifting his weight to propel the swing forward as they chuckled at that. “For real though, if you can hit like that, I don’t know why Sensei and Mr. LaRusso won’t tell the others to go at you during practice. Well, maybe I can get Mr. LaRusso, but what’s up with Sensei?” Hawk’s mouth twitched, remembering Sensei Lawrence’s chew-out again. He swung himself some more, trying to push a thought to the back to his mind, a thought that reminded him that for as unhinged as he turned out to be, at least Kreese never yelled at him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting the natural momentum of the swing rock him without anymore effort on his part, Miguel sighed. He knew what the issue was. Sensei Lawrence was being overprotective. And on an emotional level, he could understand and even appreciate that Sensei cared for him so much that he didn’t want to see him push himself too hard, too fast. But was that love clouding his judgment and making him refuse to see the truth? That Miguel was much farther along now than the others were willing to admit?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Well, they couldn’t deny it anymore, could they?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’m someone they should feel sorry for,” confessed Miguel, gripping the chains in his palms tighter, the muscles in his shoulders tensing. “It’s like, deep down everyone secretly thinks I’m weak.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes flitted away from Miguel. He stepped off the swing and finally sat normally on it, letting it sway back and forth at the slightest movement of his weight. Then he looked back at his friend. “I know you’re not weak,” Hawk assured him. Miguel was the strongest person he knew, in every meaning of the word.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel arched a skeptical eyebrow. His next words flew out before he could rethink saying them. “I saw the way you looked at me earlier during the fight. You never would’ve stopped on account of a nosebleed before. I’m not looking for pity from you any more than you are from me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I didn’t stop because I pitied you, c’mon,” said Hawk, resting his elbows on his knees, running the fingers on his left hand over his right knuckles.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, sure,” Miguel flippantly retorted, hating how petulant he sounded to his own ears, but letting it out regardless. He let go of the chains, having gripped them so hard they’d left indentions on his palms. Resting his hands on his knees, he let out another big sigh. His eyes fell on the bloodstains on his long shirt-sleeve, from where he’d wiped it across his face earlier; even on a red shirt, he wondered if they would come out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He knew he shouldn’t be going off as he was, but he couldn’t pretend to himself he wasn’t feeling what he was feeling, and it felt good to air it out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I mean it,” argued Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel still didn’t look like he believed him. He only stared up at him. “Then what was it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk licked his bottom lip. His chest had started rising and falling as his breathing picked up. Did Miguel notice? <em>Do it</em>, his instincts told him. <em>Just say it</em>. “Dude, I like you, I don’t wanna beat you up for real.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Like I said, it was just a nosebleed,” repeated Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s nostrils flared as his breath continued to quicken. He looked down at where Miguel’s nearest hand laid relaxed on his knee. <em>Say it</em>, his instincts bellowed again. More like ramble. “Y’know, I came to Eagle Fang so I wouldn’t have to fight you like you’re my enemy. I mean, yeah, I was upset you wouldn’t come back to Cobra Kai but then Sensei Kreese went and let Robby into the group.” His eyebrows furrowed hard and his fists clenched. “I was so pissed! I didn’t understand, Cobra Kai was supposed to be for life, and he just let in the guy who sent you to the hospital! Sensei Kreese was letting him take your place! And then Kyler was beating the shit out of you during the fight at Mr. LaRusso’s and, I dunno, I figured it wasn’t Cobra Kai I cared about anymore….” Still gazing at Miguel’s hand, he uncurled his right fist. Before he could chicken out, or before Miguel might move it away again, he reached over and laid his on top of it. “It-It was you."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slowly, he brought his eyes back up to Miguel’s. His friend’s brown ones were wide, and his brows had risen practically to his forehead in surprise. And for a few seconds, he just stared at him. Then his brows came back down, pinching the slightest like he was in deep thought.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Finally, Miguel breathed, “…Hawk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Back when you took me on that ride up to The Snake, were you…?” Miguel let the thought trail off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk started feeling a clenching in his stomach, the threat of regret coiling around his insides. All he could think to say in return was, “You weren’t joking about, y’know, liking guys, too, were you?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel closed his eyes as the realization hit him and he muttered, “Oh shit…."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pulled his hand back now. He quickly wrapped them around the swing chains as an uneasy chuckle broke out of him, and he looked away. “N-No, it’s cool if you were! Heh, just forget it, it’s no big. Totally cool, doesn’t change a thing.” Perhaps he could go find the Cobras right that second and have them put him out of his misery. What had he been thinking? When was the last time his instincts had ever been right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Reopening his eyes to glance at Hawk, Miguel shook his head. “No, no, I didn’t mean….” He paused again, letting out a deep breath. His hand reached up to run through his hair, his eyes widening again. “I thought <em>you</em> were joking, but I…I’m….” <em>Still with Sam</em>, he almost said. But that wasn’t exactly true anymore. Was that why Hawk was making a move now? What else could Miguel say to him at that moment? He was at a loss to find his words.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“For real, it’s cool, d-don’t worry about it,” Hawk stressed again, his laugh strained at it came out of his throat, trying to focus his sight on anything but Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two sat in agonizing silence for the next few minutes. Miguel’s mind blank. He was blindsided and didn’t know how to react. “Maybe we should head out,” was his only suggestion. He needed to get home. He could think about it more there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The ride to Reseda Heights was awkward but mercifully short, at least. And it started to give Miguel an opportunity for his friend’s words to sink in as the crisp air whipped around him while he rode on the back of the motorcycle, gripping his arms around Hawk throughout the ride home.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Accepting the spare helmet back from Miguel when they arrived in the parking lot, Hawk flipped up his visor and the two of them simply stared at each other for another long moment “This doesn’t change anything between us,” said Hawk. His brows then furrowed, and he couldn’t help turning his statement into a question. “Does it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel gave him a reassuring smile, holding out his hand. Hawk accepted it and Miguel pulled him into a bro-hug. “Of course not, man.” They parted and Miguel strolled with heavy footsteps over to his apartment. Giving Hawk one more look from over his shoulder, Miguel turned around and opened the door.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk let out a deep sigh, letting his shoulders sag when Miguel disappeared through it. He wanted to smack himself upside the head; at least he was wearing a helmet if he did. Instead, he tried to ignore the ache in his chest, berating himself under his breath, “You fucking idiot.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before riding off, Hawk reached into his back pocket. Bringing up his texts, he shot a quick one out before he lost his nerve. He needed to talk to someone: <em>I told Miguel</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t think Demetri would reply as fast as he did: <em>after giving him a bloody nose? great timing very romantic</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk huffed, almost putting his cell away, but then Demetri followed that text with another one: <em>so how’d it go?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Closing the door behind him, Miguel walked further into his apartment with almost mechanical movements. Both his mother and grandma acknowledged his arrival, but he might as well have been submerged underwater again for as cognizant of his surroundings as he was. Somehow he made it to his room, dropping his bag on the floor before plopping down in his chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His vision was drawn to that newspaper clipping again, the one of him holding his championship trophy at the All-Valley, surrounded by his teammates. There was Hawk standing by his side. And Miguel began thinking of all their interactions before and since then: their confrontation in the cafeteria over him breaking Demetri’s arm; him telling Hawk about Robby Keene at the beach; Hawk visiting him in the hospital; the first time he’d met Eli when he sat at his and Demetri’s table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel ran his hand through his hair again, running it all the way back to rub at the nape of his tense neck. He let out another deep breath, wondering how long this had been going on.…</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The sudden ringing of his phone from his pocket yanked Miguel from his thoughts, and he fished it out. A FaceTime call from Sam. Accepting it, he gave her an exhausted smile. “Hey.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey there,” she replied from the other side of the screen. Her face winced in sympathy. “How’s your nose feeling?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Better,” he answered, raising his fingers to touch it; still a little sore, but none the worst for wear. He imagined it looked worse to others than it felt.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s expression got serious. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry, I won’t,” promised Miguel. “I think Sensei would kill me if I tried."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watched the way her eyebrows creased, saw the way she shook her head incredulously even as she tucked some of her wavy hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe Hawk wouldn’t stop fighting when he saw things were going too far,” said Sam. She paused for a second, like she was thinking twice about the words that came out of her next. “My dad says it’s the Cobra Kai conditioning, but I think he just loves the thrill of beating people up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stirred in his chair, sitting up straight, wanting to tell her that wasn’t fair. Maybe she was letting her concern for him cloud her objective reading of what had happened. Maybe she had run off to grab her father and Sensei Lawrence before she saw Hawk try to end it. And she certainly didn’t know about any of the things he’d said in the park.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t be hard on Hawk,” requested Miguel. “I told him to not hold back, to fight me like they do in Kreese’s Cobra Kai. And, yeah, in hindsight maybe that wasn’t the best choice we could’ve made—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You think?” Sam cut in, brushing her hair behind her ear again in visible discomfort.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed, giving her that one. She’d been right, it was a stupid idea. “I’m just sayin’, don’t take it out on him, alright? If you’re gonna be mad at someone, be mad at me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m not mad at you, Miguel,” Sam assured him. “I’m worried about you. Even if we’re not dating right now, I care about you. And seeing you today, letting yourself get beat up? And all for what, to prove that you were tough enough to take it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, come on now, give me some props,” Miguel joked, putting on a bigger grin in the hopes it might lighten things up. “I think I did a pretty good job dishing it back to Hawk, don’t you think?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam didn’t look amused by that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel cleared his throat. “Anyway, I should probably get started on my homework. Y’know, gonna be up for a while with that English reading assignment.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heads up, it’s a total snooze-fest,” Sam warned him, letting a hesitant grin return to the corners of her lips. “Faulkner is pure torture, I don’t think he wrote a single book that didn’t add ten years to my life reading it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks for the warning,” chuckled Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam sent him a small wave from her side of the screen. “Have a good night,” she said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel mustered the energy for another tired smile. “You, too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Changed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel took an unsteady step on the unsteady wood beneath his bare feet. He tried casting his arms out straight to stabilize their precarious balance, but his partner slipped near the edge. He had a second to look across from him to see Demetri’s wide-eyed grimace before the board wobbled and capsized, sending the both of them splashing into the koi pond.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Demetri stood up from the water, Chris tried encouraging him. “You did better that time, Met. Don’t give up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oof, that makes ten wipeouts!” Mitch chuckled to Miguel while he reached out to steady the wheel again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing in the freezing water, Miguel gestured to Mitch and warned him, “Hey, laugh all you want right now, buddy, you’ll get yours soon.” With a grunt, he then heaved himself back on the board. Demetri did the same. After so many failed attempts, they both looked pretty pathetic, shivering and drenched to the bone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing down at his teammate beside him, Mitch said, “Bert, dude, I can’t believe you’re so much better at this than Miguel. You and Nate only fell in three times. What’s the secret?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“My cat-like reflexes,” answered Bert, standing there cocooned in a big towel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Noticing Hawk wasn’t joining in their good-natured laughter, eyeing the way he stood stiffly with his arms crossed and uneasy expression tight across his face, Mitch asked him, “Hey, what’s up with you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shifted on his feet. “Ate some bad fish sticks at lunch,” he lied. Not too much of a stretch. His stomach still hadn’t felt like it had recovered from bottoming out after he went and made a fool of himself the previous evening. He was starting to wonder if the queasiness would ever subside.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch nodded. “Been there, man. You want some Pepto? I got a bottle in my bag.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m good,” Hawk replied, wishing Mitch would leave him alone. But when he took a second to pull himself out of his morose hole, he had to admit it was nice of Mitch to offer, even if he could live without knowing why Mitch kept a bottle of Pepto in his bag. So he added, “Thanks, though.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, do it again!” ordered Sensei Lawrence, standing on the other side of the pond with Mr. LaRusso. “We can keep you here all day if we have to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was probably an empty threat, if Mr. LaRusso had anything to say about it, but it made Miguel let out a long-suffering sigh regardless. He and Demetri slowly stood up straight, regaining their balance, waiting until the wheel stopped wobbling before they begun their intricate dance again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence had had misgivings about the purpose of the wheel and what it was meant to accomplish. But when Mr. LaRusso mentioned a member of Miyagi-Do would be partnered with one from Eagle Fang and both be forced to perform the technique together, it clicked, and Sensei Lawrence jumped onboard. In fact, he seemed to enjoy watching the students fall in the pond, judging by the smirk on his face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel and Demetri moved on the wheel, doing their best to mirror each other and parrot what Mr. LaRusso had shown all of them at the start of the lesson. If he’d been on steady ground, Miguel would have had the movements down without issue. The katas he’d spent weeks now memorizing did help with the steady flow of the movements. It was the coordination that proved to be the problem.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They both pivoted around at the same time, and Demetri’s foot slipped on the wet board. Miguel lurched forward to stabilize the wheel, even reaching out to try and grab one of Demetris flailing arms, but the board jerked and tilted over, sending the two back in the water.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s head sprung out of the water, hacking. “Oh God, I swallowed something solid!” he exclaimed, face contorting in revulsion. “What was that?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“A water bug?” suggested Chris, shrugging.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate offered, “Maybe a leech?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That made Demetri shudder even worse, coughing like he’d swallowed poison. “Oh God, no!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Relax,” Sam tried reassuring him, “it was probably just a leaf.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso clapped his hands together and stepped forward, saying, “Okay, good try, Demetri and Miguel. You two take a breather. Let’s change it up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris reached down with an extended hand and assisted Demetri out of the pond, delivering a few helpful and firm pats on his back to aid with his coughing fit, while Sam offered him a towel. Meanwhile, Miguel accepted Hawk’s help climbing out. The two had a second to give each other an awkward stare before Miguel stepped aside and began drying himself off as soon as Bert handed him a towel, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, Sam, how about you step in and show them how it’s done?” suggested Mr. LaRusso, gesturing to his daughter. Sam nodded, hissing with a shiver when the cold water touched her skin, but she wadded into the pond without protest. Everyone in Miyagi-Do clapped in excitement, knowing she was the master among them when it came to the wheel technique.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence scanned his students, determining which one should join Sam. “Hawk,” he decided, “get up there with Miss LaRusso.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No way am I getting my hair wet for this!” Hawk responded incredulously.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel blinked in surprise while he toweled his own hair off. He heard a single, derisive laugh break out of Sam from where she stood cross-armed and waist-deep in the water by the wheel, and he watched Sensei Lawrence twist his mouth in embarrassment, made worse by the open confusion on Mr. LaRusso’s face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Which one of you is supposed to be the girl here?” demanded Sensei Lawrence. He either missed or chose to ignore the look of aggravated disbelief Sam shot him for that remark, telling Hawk instead, “Stop being a pussy and get in the water.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk spared another glance at the koi pond, meeting Sam’s icy glare for a few seconds before turning his eyes back on Sensei Lawrence. With a soft scoff, he turned around and sauntered away from the group, making his way over the walkway that would lead inside the dojo. He made it a point to avoid Miguel’s gaze.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eyebrows pinched in concern, Mitch turned around like he was ready to follow him until Sensei Lawrence snapped, “Alright, while Hawk’s busy being a little <em>diva</em>, Penis Breath, you’re up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso’s expression contorted and he shook his head. “Really? Do you <em>have</em> to call them names?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What?” retorted Sensei Lawrence. “If it really bothered him, he’d speak up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Unzipping his jacket and handing it to Miguel, Mitch must have noticed the bemusement on his face, because he offered as an explanation, “Hawk said he ate some bad fish sticks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just as good,” commented Sam, her eyes narrowed. “He’d probably have capsized the wheel and dunked us on purpose.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk slowed his pace once he stepped inside the house, deciding whether or not he should go ahead and take off for the day and deal with the repercussions from Sensei Lawrence later. He couldn’t believe Sensei would tell him to do that, to do anything that was guaranteed to ruin his hair. Sensei was the one who inspired him to get the mohawk in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>I made you what you are, not Kreese!</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk paused when his eyes caught a glimpse of a display case Mr. LaRusso had on one of the tables. The medal of honor. For a moment, Hawk thought he could feel the metal against his collarbone again, resting against the crescent moon tattoo inked on the skin there; now against the Grim Reaper that guarded his heart instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was so acutely aware of his surroundings inside the dojo at that moment. The last time he’d been at Miyagi-Do after his heart had been ripped in half, he’d left the dojo looking far worse than even he felt. So he guessed, if nothing else, he was doing better this time around by not completely trashing it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d been so stupid, saying all that to Miguel. He’d ruined everything. Why couldn’t he stop destroying good things when he had them?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk turned around at the sound of approaching footsteps, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He expected it to be Sensei Lawrence, there to verbally ream him for embarrassing him in front of Mr. LaRusso and the Miyagi-Dos.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But it wasn’t him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You should’ve stayed and watched,” said Demetri, walking up to him, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. “I mean, Sam’s a champ at this, but your buddy Bebop did a total cannonball. The whole thing was a mess. I don’t think even Sam’s gonna be able to help him much.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe he’d do better with Chris,” suggested Hawk, rolling his shoulders, not feeling up to the discussion.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri pressed his mouth in a thin line for a moment. “Be honest,” he said, “was you throwing a tantrum and marching off to brood because of your hair or because you didn’t like the idea of being partnered with Sam?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s because of the hair,” Hawk answered bluntly, narrowing his eyes at being told he’d been having a tantrum. “Dude, it takes me, like, an hour to do it in the morning, you think I’m gonna ruin it over some stupid lesson?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, he wouldn’t have put it past Sam to mess up the technique on purpose, sending him crashing into the koi pond out of pure spite. No way did he trust her as a partner.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s not a stupid lesson,” argued Demetri, his own tone turning a little curt. “It’s supposed to teach you about balance.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that why you and Miguel couldn’t balance your asses on it?” retorted Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shrugged. “I never said I was good at it, but at least <em>I</em> tried. Look, let’s not beat around the bush, you’ve been irritable all day and we both know why. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There was Demetri, reading him like a book again. Although it couldn’t have been that complicated to put two and two together, considering the amount of time they’d spent the previous night texting about what had happened.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk persisted in his stubbornness. “No, it’s really about the hair,” he repeated. And there was truth to that. He didn’t expect Demetri to understand. Demetri never did appreciate how much his mohawk had come to mean to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got Demetri to chuckle. “Okay, whatever you say. But I wish you’d give Mr. L’s techniques more of a fair chance.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Like the way you give it your all when Sensei Lawrence tells you to spar with me?” He regretted his words when Demetri’s mouth hung open at hearing them. Hawk sighed irritably, rubbing at the material inside his pockets. It wasn’t Demetri’s fault he couldn’t fight him without flinching.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri said, “I don’t like fighting you. Besides, we’re much better as a team. I honestly wouldn’t mind going all Double Dragon with you on those Cobra Kai miscreants again, if it comes down to it. So it doesn’t really matter to me whether I ever learn to spar with you on Eagle Fang’s level. That can be you and Miguel’s thing. I prefer my easygoing katas to high-intense brawls anyway.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk heard the typical sardonic humor behind Demetri’s words, but it didn’t ease the tension in his gut. “Listen, I’ll help you get over your fears if you’ll let me,” he offered, taking a step toward his friend. It was a problem, they couldn’t pretend it wasn’t, not only for Demetri’s skills as a fighter but also for what it meant for their friendship. “If you can’t stop flinching against me, you’ll definitely have problems fighting Cobra Kai later. We might not always be together to tag-team against them. Like at the All-Valley, you’ll be on your own then.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The boy across from him shifted on his feet, looking particularly vulnerable as he stood there, clothes drenched and dripping water all over the wood floor. “I appreciate the offer, but honestly, Eli, I’d be happy just hanging out with you for now. Y’know, like normal, outside of this karate hobby.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk opened his mouth. “But—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri cut him off, admitting, “I’ve missed you a lot. Even with this whole merging-of-the-dojos thing, it feels like you’ve been avoiding me. I mean, I know why. But all I’d really like right now is to have another Badlarious Movie Night with you again like we used to do. C’mon, wouldn’t a night of popcorn and some good, old-fashioned bad movies help you feel better about the whole thing with Miguel right now? We don’t have to talk about anything else, just the movie. You look like you could use a laugh.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It sounded so good. But it didn’t feel right. It was too passive, and Hawk never wanted to go back to being passive again, like he had been all his life before Cobra Kai. It was like praising himself for not wrecking Miyagi-Do this time around, rewarding himself the Congrats On Not Being As Much Of An Asshole As You Could’ve Been Award.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He wanted to feel like he was actually <em>doing</em> something to help things between him and Demetri. But then, it wasn’t about what <em>he</em> wanted right now, was it? It was about what Demetri was asking him to do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Hawk nodded, giving Demetri a small smile. “Alright. Did you ever get that copy of <em>Battlefield Earth</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel lazily flipped through the channels. Not the most exciting way to spend the start of his weekend that Friday night, but everyone else sounded like they were busy, going by the group chat. Then again, Miguel didn’t know what sort of company he could’ve provided, even if the others were available to hang out with. Probably not fun company. Not with everything that had been weighing on his mind the past several days.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel tossed the remote beside him and sighed, digging out his cellphone and sinking more into the soft cushions of the couch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On the surface, the rest of that week had been normal enough. He and Hawk interacted with each other as they always did, so Miguel doubted anyone else had a clue what was going on beneath that misleading calm surface. They didn’t see the way neither of them could look at each other in the face for too long, they didn’t catch how Hawk didn’t clap him on the shoulder the way he used to. Miguel noticed these things, however. How couldn’t he?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Had he been lying, both to Hawk and himself, when he promised nothing between them would change after this?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had spent so much time that week thinking - overthinking, most likely - their whole friendship, digging deep for the signs. There <em>had</em> to be signs, right? That was what he kept telling himself, that there were clues he’d missed because it had never crossed his mind to be on the lookout for them in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When had it started? Recently? Around the time of his accident? Before that?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stared at Hawk’s name on his phone’s contact list, bringing up their text history. He supposed he could send him a text and ask him all those questions. But that would mean things had changed. It would remind both of them that things <em>were</em> different now, no matter what either of them wanted to believe otherwise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rubbing the back of his neck, Miguel swallowed hard. What should he say? They needed to talk about this, right? Or should he leave it alone? But the tension was getting to be too much to bear. And neither one of them avoided a confrontation if they could help it. Neither of them was afraid of anything. Much less something like this, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pressed out of the text screen, going back to his contacts. He opened another chat history. He thought about calling Sam, right that moment, staring at her name on his phone. Tell her he was in agony from waiting for them to get back <em>together</em> together, beg her to let them starting dating for real again. That would put an end to all of this confusion for good. Because it was what he’d always wanted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But he showed enough self-restraint to stop himself. Not only would that be embarrassingly desperate, but it also reminded him of what happened the last time he jumped into a relationship before he was finished sorting through his feelings. The circumstances were different, granted, but once he thought of Tory, Miguel removed his thumb from Sam’s name on his screen. Setting his phone on the table, pushing it out of reach, he decided to concentrate on the television again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No use. And for a fleeting moment, a jolt of anger swelled up inside Miguel. He glowered at the television, hands clenching into fists where his arms were crossed against his chest. Why did Hawk have to spring that on him? Especially with everything going on lately? Why now, of all times? Why did he have to make things awkward between them? Why did he have to make this difficult? Why wasn’t what they had going on as friends enough for him? Why did he want more?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But as quickly as Miguel’s frustration had stormed in, it subsided just as fast with a deep, calming exhale, softening his pinched brows and creased mouth. No, that wasn’t fair, he told himself. He couldn’t fault Hawk for his feelings, any more than he could be angry at himself for his own.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He almost jumped when his mom suddenly joined him on the couch, dressed in her pajamas, hair wrapped in a towel from the shower. She had a cup of tea in one hand, offering Miguel a mug with her other one as well. “Thanks,” he said, relaxing, noting his drink was hot chocolate. It was warm and delicious when he sipped on it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What are you watching?” asked Carmen.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rolled his shoulders. “Eh, nothing really. Can’t find anything good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t know who else to turn to for advice. He didn’t think there were any of the guys he could reach out to and ask without them needling him and eventually figuring out who he was talking about. And this definitely didn’t feel like it would be Sensei Lawrence’s area of expertise. So why not ask his mother?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking another gulp of his hot chocolate, Miguel did just that. “Hey, Mom, can I get some advice?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, from me? I get to be your Sensei this time?” his mother teased, getting a chuckle out of him. She made it sound like he was doing her some honor coming to her instead of Sensei Lawrence. “What’s going on?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Have you ever had a friend who wanted to, y’know, be more than friends?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought you and Sam were only taking a break?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We are,” replied Miguel, letting the mug warm his hands. “But one my friends told me some things the other night, and I was completely caught off-guard by it. And things have been pretty awkward since. I mean, we’re not avoiding each other or anything but I don’t know what I should tell him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“‘Him’?” asked his mother, tilting her head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel clarified, “It’s not that he’s a guy that’s the problem. I mean, not really.” He wished he could have gone back to that evening in the park and explained himself to Hawk better. Yes, he’d been messing around with him at The Snake, but he hadn’t been untruthful about experiencing the occasional guy crush.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen nodded, swallowing another drink of tea. “I meant, he knew you’ve been questioning? He felt comfortable approaching you with this?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel paused a moment to have more hot chocolate before it could get cold, also providing him a few seconds to try and collect his thoughts. “He and I were kinda joking around and I let it out that I’m, y’know, okay with that. Or at least I thought we were joking. I mean, I like him, but it sounds like he’s been <em>like</em> liking me for a while. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want this to get weird for us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother was the next one to go quiet for a minute, finishing the last few sips of her drink before finding her words. “Growing up, there was this boy I had been friends with since junior high,” she started. Miguel perked at the mention of his mom’s personal history. “His name was Sebastian. He would walk me home, we would go to the movies with our other friends, he always treated me well. When we started our sophomore year, I discovered my feelings for him were turning deeper than those between normal friends. For a while, I kept those to myself, worried what he would say if I told him. I didn’t want to risk the good thing we had. But eventually, I did confess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what happened?” asked Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen smiled, setting her cup down on the living room table. “He let me down gently.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel cringed. That had to sting. “That stinks. It was his loss.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” said his mother, “but in his case, it was because he was gay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ah,” replied Miguel, brows raising on his forehead, tapping his fingernails against the mug in his hands. “I guess that would make sense then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But I don’t regret telling him,” clarified Carmen, leaning back into the couch. “And I was glad he was able to be open with me. Yes, things were awkward there for a while afterward, but it didn’t ruin what we had before. He remained a good friend, all the way until we had to leave Ecuador.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pressed his lips together in thought, letting the meaning of his mother’s story sink in. “So it doesn’t have to ruin things for us?” he asked. “For me and my friend?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen shook her head. “Not if you don’t want it to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel beamed, relieved to hear that from someone else. “That’s great. Thanks, Mom.” Downing the remainder of his hot chocolate, which wasn’t so hot by this point, he decided he was done having the attention on him for a while. So he casually asked, “By the way, since we’re talking about this, how about you? Meet any new guys on the dating app lately?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother’s smile ebbed. She had that morose expression again, like she had that night she’d taken them out for ice-cream, the one she tried hiding behind false content. Miguel still didn’t know what to make of that look, or what motivated it. ”I’ve decided maybe it’s best to give dating a rest for a while.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Payback</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Hey, Hawk! Wait up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk slowed down at the sound of his name, turning around in the hallway to see Miguel rushing to catch up to him. “Hey, man,” he greeted him. “How was Trig?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sucked, but what else is new?” answered Miguel, slowing down when he reached Hawk’s side. Pushing aside the small talk, he cut to the chase. “Hey, before we head to lunch, I just wanted to say, sorry things have been kinda weird lately between us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shrugged, but his discomfort was transparent. “Have they? Hadn’t noticed.” Even with his smile, the way his eyes couldn’t help but dart gave away his unease. More sincerely, he muttered, “Sorry for <em>making</em> things weird. Are we cool?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel grinned and reached behind him to give him a couple of reassuring pats on his back. “Definitely cool.” The weekend had given him plenty of time to stop overthinking things so much and understand that his mother was right and nothing was ruined between him and Hawk. After all, their friendship had survived so much worse. And he would have a hundred-times rather had Hawk confess romantic feelings for him than exact unasked-for revenge on his behalf like he had against Miyagi-Do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His reassurance perked Hawk up and now his smile looked more genuine.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Now come on, let’s grab some lunch,” said Miguel, leading them down the rest of the hallway and into the cafeteria. And as soon as the duo stepped through the doors, they spotted one of their teammates getting out of the lunch line.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nathaniel was trying to balance walking with his food tray close to his chest with one hand while holding his phone up to his face with the other. Not paying attention, he didn’t notice he was passing by the Cobra Kai table on his way towards the one Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang usually claimed. And he missed Kyler shooting his foot out at the last moment to trip him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate fell to the floor with a splat, landing right on his tray, earning an eruption of laughter from Kyler and his crew. “Damn!” snickered Kyler. “Little nerd just can’t watch where he’s walking.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over by the door, Miguel’s hands clenched into fists. He swore he could feel his blood pressure rising. “This asshole again,” he grumbled, rushing immediately to Nate’s side, Hawk right behind him. Nate was on his knees, trying to wipe off meatloaf and mashed potatoes from his shirt. Miguel didn’t hesitate to get between him and his rival, declaring, “I’m getting sick of this shit, Kyler! Lowered yourself to picking on freshmen, huh? Pathetic. But then, that’s what you’ve always been, haven’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug, Big Red, and Edwin glanced around the cafeteria, probably checking to see if Miguel’s firm voice had attracted the attention of any teachers. And for a second, Miguel thought about going to grab one, before remembering there was no point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, there was a small part of him that was as thrilled by this confrontation as he was tired of Kyler’s persistent refusal to mind his own business.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler stood up from his chair, rising to his full height imposingly. “You wanna talk about pathetic, Rhea?” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Let’s talk about how even though those doctors might’ve been able to make you walk again, you and I both know you’re never gonna be what you were. Heh, a champ? Bitch, please. Glad you left us your trophy back at Cobra Kai. It should be where the real champs are at.” He paused a second, looking down to the floor at Nate. “Really, it’s pretty fitting if you ask me that you love the company of pussies and rejects so much these days. You must feel right at home.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the corner of his vision, Miguel saw Hawk take a step forward, which made the other Cobras sit up straight in their chairs. Miguel raised a hand to stop his friend. He wanted Kyler for himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meeting Kyler’s glare, Miguel remembered the previous year, the last time they’d confronted each other in the cafeteria. Thinking back on it made his heart thunder in his ribcage, it made his blood boil to remember the absolute smackdown he’d delivered on Kyler and his old crew then for how they’d treated not just him, but his friends, too. The rush. The excitement. Miguel remembered how it had felt like to be a winner for the first time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>I’m ready for your lame-ass karate this time.</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>It’s not lame-ass karate. It’s Cobra Kai.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Some things never changed, but others were so much more different now. Things were more complicated, greyer, no longer black words on a white wall. Now life wasn’t as simple as Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy. Now Kyler was wearing the Cobra Kai colors, fighting for the Cobra Kai cred. And it made Miguel’s chest ache to be reminded of that once more. Even if he smashed a tray against Kyler’s face again, it wouldn’t change that reality.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If only Robby hadn’t kicked him off the balcony….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat, letting his fists uncurl by his sides as he felt a phantom chill crawl up his spine. His jaw clenched tight and his eyebrows knitted to the bridge of his nose, but the upset storm churning inside him knew he could not get the payback he wanted right now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When was he going to be able to protect his friends from people like Kyler again, before things escalated to where they did at Sam’s house last Christmas? Would he really have to wait all the way until the All-Valley Tournament? Why? Because Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso agreed to Sensei Kreese’s truce?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing beside Miguel, Hawk stared at him. He kept waiting for Miguel to give the signal, <em>any</em> signal, that suggested they would shut Kyler up then and there. But instead, he watched as his friend’s shoulders slumped, watched as Miguel turned around to help Nate, earning the derisive chortles of Kyler, who felt he once again won their verbal spar. And it killed Hawk to see the fight leave Miguel like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Kyler sat back down with the Cobras, Hawk’s features pinched in deep thought as he looked down at his teammates when Miguel retrieved some extra napkins for Nate and picked up his spoiled tray for him. The three of them made their way to the nearest tray-return station and trashcan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Seeing the injured look on Miguel’s face, Hawk assured him, “Hey, sometimes you gotta lose a battle to win a war, right? If you punched that asshole’s face right here, you probably would’ve gotten us all sent to the principal’s office. Kyler’s a bitch like that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Like you’re any better than he is,” Nate retorted, glaring harshly at Hawk in-between wiping the mashed potatoes from his shirt with the napkins. “Just a few months ago, you were exactly like him, picking fights with all of us here, knowing you could weasel your way out of any trouble with the teachers. It’s what they taught you assholes at Cobra Kai, isn’t it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Setting the tray down at the station, Miguel winced at the blunt way the younger boy said that. “Listen, Nate—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk beat him to the punch, putting a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “No, Nate’s right,” he said, sounding neither self-pitying nor proud of that; he simply agreed. “But my question is, do you wanna keep talking about what happened in the past, or do you wanna help me give Kyler some payback now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Both Miguel and Nate stared wide-eyed at him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s breath, in particular, started picking up at what Hawk might be hinting at. “We can’t make the first move,” he reminded Hawk. “Remember Sensei’s new code under Eagle Fang: no striking first.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kyler made the first strike when he tripped Nate,” retorted Hawk. “As far as I see it, Cobra Kai broke the truce. That gives us all the reason we need to hit back.” Miguel may have mentioned Sensei Lawrence’s code, but at the moment, Hawk could only hear Sensei Kreese’s advice in his ear:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>If your mind is agile, so are you. That’s the best way to beat your enemy. Not just with brute strength. But you have to fight smart. Do that and you’ll always come out on top.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He knew better than to have Sensei Kreese in his head again. But it was still good advice, even if the source of it had been bad. And the thought of turning Sensei Kreese’s advice on one of his own Cobras? The mere idea of that made Hawk’s fingers twitch with excitement by his sides. He’d warned Kyler to fuck around and find out. Now it was time to make him pay.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel saw the crease in Hawk’s brow, the one that suggested he had a plan. And he had a point. Kyler had shown he was willing to be the aggressor, and it was only starting to escalate more and more. How long before he was willing to push it farther and start an actual fight? “You’re not gonna suggest anything that would risk getting us expelled, are you?” he asked, hesitant excitement beginning to stir in his chest at the thought of getting payback on Kyler. He hoped Hawk really did have a plan. “No school fights?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nah,” replied Hawk. “We’re gonna fight smart about this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What do you mean?” asked Nate, tossing his messy napkins away. But Hawk could hear from his tone, Nate sounded intrigued by the prospect of what he was offering.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk looked at him, then up to Miguel, and a crooked smirk curled up the side of his face. Gesturing for his two teammates to follow him, he sauntered over to where Mitch was sitting at their typical table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“There you guys are,” said Mitch, opening his carton of chocolate milk as he eyed the three of them. “Thought I was gonna be alone through all of lunch. Sam, Demetri, and Chris said they were heading to the library to—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk cut him off. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, you want some revenge on Kyler?” He extended his hand in invitation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Setting down his carton, Mitch beamed immediately and without any hesitation clapped his hand back. “Hell yeah! How are we gonna do it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You still got that bottle of MiraLAX?”</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next day after school, the four of them met under the bleachers in the school gym. The wrestling team was starting to come out of the locker room, each of them stopping by first to drop off their towels and water bottles on the bleacher seats before starting their warm-up laps. Hidden in the safety of the darkness, peeking through a gap in the rows, Miguel saw Kyler set his belongings down, none the wiser that he was being observed. He watched as Kyler unscrewed the cap off his bottle of Powerade and take a chug.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kyler, man, what the hell was with you flaking on us yesterday?” asked one of his wrestling buddies, who appeared in the line of sight. “Is this karate shit gonna be eating up all your free time now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel heard Kyler reply, “Just until the Tournament in May.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, but don’t let it get in the way of the team,” said his friend. “We’re not making the finals this year without you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kyler! Jonas!” barked the wrestling coach from somewhere in the gym. “Stop chatting and start running!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You got it, Coach!” Kyler called out, setting down his Powerade bottle before he and his friend took off to begin their laps.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Peering through the gap, Miguel’s eyes swept back and forth several times, making sure things were clear enough. Once he was satisfied nobody was paying the area any attention, he glanced behind him at Nate, telling him, “Okay, go ahead.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate made his way over to the end of the bleachers and snuck out. Miguel had told him to keep as low a profile as possible. And being the youngest and smallest of the group, he’d attract the least attention as he needed to be subtle in maneuvering over to the water bottles, take Kyler’s Powerade, and return under the bleaches, all without anyone being suspicious as to why he was there. Since other students were sitting on the bleachers, either watching the wrestlers or merely hanging out, Miguel hoped Nate wouldn’t stand out much.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Watching what he could from the gap, he saw Nate come into his vision. Miguel’s eyes darted between his teammate and where the wrestlers were finishing their laps and getting started on their stretches, but he caught Nate swiping the bottle in question. The boy stuffed it in his jacket and walked away. Step one accomplished.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In another minute, Nate was dipping back under the bleachers, joining the group again, the grin of victory-achieved spread clear over his face. “Got it,” he said, pulling the bottle of Powerade out and presenting it to them like a trophy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” declared Hawk, “let <em>Operation: Eagles Do The Shitting</em> begin.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sitting beside him, unzipping the backpack he was wearing on his chest, Mitch suggested, “I was actually thinking, maybe we should call it <em>Operation: Assblast</em>. Because, technically, Kyler’s the one who’s gonna be doing—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Shhh,” Miguel hissed, motioning with his hand for them to keep their voices down. “We don’t want the whole gym to know what we’re doing here, come on. You got the MiraLAX?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch nodded, pulling it out of his bag. “Yep, right here. Time to clean the pipes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">An eager grin spread over further up Nate’s face, and he rubbed his hands together, looking absolutely thrilled by what they were going to do. “Kyler’s not gonna know what hit him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei and Mr. LaRusso are always saying we need more team-bonding exercises,” joked Miguel, glad to see Nate getting so into it. “I say we found one we can all get behind, don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk nodded, jutting his chin out at their Miyagi-Do teammate. “Yeah, it’s about time Nate sees what Eagle Kai’s really made of.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eagle Fang,” corrected Mitch, twisting the cap off the MiraLAX bottle.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk furrowed his brows. “That’s what I said.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You said Eagle Kai,” confirmed Nate. Beside him, Miguel grimaced at Hawk’s faux pas but also nodded in agreement with the others.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk rolled his eyes and his shoulders, ignoring the warmth spreading across his cheeks. Between remembering Sensei Kreese’s words earlier and Nate reminding him he’d been no better than Kyler at one point, he supposed he’d gotten confused and slipped the names up. “Whatever, you know what I meant.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking the open Powerade bottle from Nate, Mitch looked at the laxative in his other hand and read the back of the label. “How much do you think we should put in?” he asked. “Do you think one dose would act fast enough? When my dad takes it, it’s usually about thirty-minutes before it kicks in.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Better make it a double-dose then,” suggested Miguel without hesitation. They wanted to be there to see it happen, after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just pour half the bottle,” said Nate, excitement as clear in his voice as the smile was across his face. Beside him, Hawk grinned at his recommendation. Catching that look, Nate shrugged. “It’s the only way to be sure.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nudging him with his elbow, Hawk noted, “Not bad for a Miyagi-Do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We don’t start fights,” explained Nate, “but we sure as fuck will finish them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch poured the liberal amount of laxative into the drink. Securing the lid on the bottle, Nate took it back from Mitch and shook the Powerade up well. “Alright, the coast is clear, go put it back where you found it,” said Miguel, peeking through the gap in the bleachers again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate went out on his second mission to return Kyler’s bottle and returned right before the wrestlers ended their warm-ups and were circling around the mats to start their practice matches. Miguel could hear them chatting as several walked by to grab a quick drink and wipe the sweat from their faces. One of them was Kyler.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His rival twisted the lid off his drink and chugged more of it down. Miguel licked his bottom lip, tapping his fingertips where they rested against the bleachers. <em>That’s right</em>, he thought to himself. <em>Better stay hydrated. You’re gonna need it.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler drank a hearty amount before the coach’s whistle dragged him over to the mats. “Now we just wait,” announced Miguel to the team, keeping his eyes on Kyler.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next ten minutes might as well have been ten hours, they dragged on so much. “Do you think we poured enough?” asked Mitch, beginning to sound worried. Miguel was starting to worry, as well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Until he saw a flicker of discomfort cross Kyler’s features, until he saw him clutch his stomach. Then Miguel’s breath caught in his throat, and his smile returned to his face. He waited another couple of minutes, watching as Kyler tried shaking it off, looking increasingly disoriented and nauseated.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then Kyler was calling out, “Sorry, Coach, I’ll be right back!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Suddenly Kyler sprinted to the bathroom. A sharp laugh broke from Miguel first, practically a whoop of victory that had his grin spreading ear to ear, soon followed by the cheers of his teammates surrounding him. “Yes, ha ha!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next few minutes of waiting until Kyler emerged from the locker rooms was worth it, seeing the way he gingerly walked out, the hesitancy of not knowing whether or not he was finished yet written all over his face. He didn’t make it more than ten steps into the gym before he stopped, mouth twisting as undoubtedly another round of cramps seized him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kyler, what’s your problem?” called out the wrestling coach.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler didn’t even have a chance to answer. He bolted back into the locker rooms, making the group under the bleachers cheer again. “Round two, dickhead!” laughed Nate while Mitch and Hawk gave each other a high-five.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel thought before that he’d wanted Kyler all to himself when it came to giving him payback. But this? This was better, he decided. “Alright,” he said, grinning down at his teammates, “what do you guys say we go check on our buddy and see how he’s doing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He, Hawk, Mitch, and Nate made their way to the other side of the bleachers, slipping out from under them as nonchalantly as they could manage. Assuming an air of innocence, they strolled by the end of the gym floor, under the basketball baskets, pretending to not notice the wrestling practice going on. Upon entering the locker room, passing by bemused and irritated jocks who were on their way out the exit, they could already hear Kyler from the bathroom. It took all of their combined willpowers to keep their snickering to a minimum while they stood idly by for him to finish.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Kyler finally stepped out of the stalls and into the locker room, the four of them were waiting for him. Kyler’s glare zeroed in on Miguel. “You!” he exclaimed, glowering, taking a threatening step forward. The effect was dampened, however, but how strained and exhausted he looked at that moment; he even had sweat pouring down his forehead, which they all knew hadn’t come from his wrestling. Miguel let himself laugh at the thought of how much time in the stall must’ve taken its toll on Kyler.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bruh, you gotta watch out for those cafeteria fish sticks,” quipped Mitch, earning more laughter from the group.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler gritted his teeth, clutching a hand to his stomach again. “You guys broke the truce. Now it’s gonna be open season on your asses!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Actually, <em>you’re</em> the one who broke the truce,” argued Miguel, crossing his arms over his chest, squaring his shoulders back. “Maybe you wanna go explain that to your Sensei. Be sure not to leave this part out though.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watched the way his words had their effect on Kyler, how it became clear what he was saying was true. Miguel knew Sensei Kreese wouldn’t give a shit about Kyler breaking the truce by tripping Nate, but he also knew Kyler’s pride would keep him from running to his Sensei and telling him how Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do got the better of him in a manner like this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So what are you gonna do about it, Kyler?” taunted Hawk further. “Snitch like a little pussy?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler scowled, declaring, “You’re fucking dead! You hear me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Everyone heard you,” said Nate. Chuckling, he clarified, “In the stalls, I mean. They could all smell you, too.” He pinched his nose for emphasis, waving his other hand in front of him to clear the air, making the others snicker again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel reached into the front pouch of his hoodie and retrieved the object he’d stuffed there earlier. Another gift from Mitch’s bag. “I think you’ll be needing this now,” he said, holding out the bottle of Pepto-Bismol to Kyler, managing as smarmy a grin as he could conjure.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler looked like he’d deck him right there, but then his rival’s stomach was rumbling again. Kyler groaned, trying his hardest to mask his discomfort, until finally he had no choice but to turn around and rush back to the stalls. But not before begrudgingly swiping the Pepto bottle from Miguel’s hand, making it all worth it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I bet Kyler will think twice now before picking on you,” said Mitch, nudging Nate’s shoulder when the four of them exited the locker room, enjoying another round of laughter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate looked between Mitch and Hawk. “I still think you guys are a couple of goons,” he told them, although his lingering smile lessened the impact of his words. “But I’m glad you’re goons who are on our side now. And if you ever want to enact another <em>Operation: Assblast</em> on Cobra Kai, count me in.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk spared a glance at Miguel, who raised his eyebrows, as if to say by that look, <em>See?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Mitch and Nate pulled ahead, talking excitedly about how they were going to explain this mission to their other teammates later at the dojo, Hawk lingered by Miguel. “So, El Serpiente, how’s <em>that</em> for fighting smart?” he asked, smug smirk crawling up the side of his face. “Think Sensei would approve?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stared at his friend’s face. Behind Hawk’s self-satisfied smirk, Miguel would have sworn he’d detected a hint of affection, and he wondered how much of this plan was Hawk’s way of helping him feel better; of giving him his chance to feel in control again. And the thought of that made Miguel’s blood rush. He might have even said he felt downright giddy at that moment, if he had to pick a word for it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting his eyes linger probably a bit too long, still grinning ear to ear, Miguel wrapped his arm warmly around Hawk’s shoulders and told him, “Kyler definitely now knows how it feels to be bitten by an Eagle.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Playing With Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Can I just state for the record that I think this is a terrible idea?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed peevishly but didn’t stop his strut down the sidewalk. “Yeah, I know, you said that twice on the ride over here,” he said, giving Demetri an aside glance. His friend had made his opinion perfectly clear, there was no need to keep repeating it. They were already almost there and Miguel was committed now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On his left, Chris added, “Both Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence said we shouldn’t be doing something like this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris was right, Miguel couldn’t deny it. That had been one of the very first and most important rules laid down by their teachers when they combined the dojos. And there was a tug at Miguel's conscience, knowing he was disobeying Sensei’s wishes by doing this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But still, he kept walking. Nothing could have stopped him at that point. It had been on his mind for days. And his victory over Kyler in the school gym emboldened him with the thought: what if he could handle another Cobra without having to resort to a fist-fight? Now he decided to take action and find out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what about Sam?” asked Demetri. Miguel didn’t answer him either. His legs continued moving, though now he made a conscious effort to keep his eyes from meeting Demetri’s. He could imagine his teammate’s beleaguered expression, though, as Demetri realized what his silence meant. “You didn’t tell her?! Oh, I see, so <em>that’s</em> why you asked us in History class instead of sending a request in the group chat.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri had hit the nail on the head there. But Miguel’s initial plan had been to ask the other Eagles to accompany him. Hawk was his first pick, but he dropped that when realizing his presence would only cause more trouble. Mitch had a dentist appointment before practice. And Bert, well, Miguel needed more backup if things went south than Bert alone could provide. So he’d turned to the Miyagi-Dos. “It’s not for the reason you think,” he assured Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He heard Demetri let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah okay. So how do you think she’s going to react to your plan?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had thought that through already. “Well, I figure if it works, we’ll have a long talk about it,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders. “And if it doesn’t, she doesn’t even need to know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shot him a glare from under deeply-furrowed eyebrows, looking both disappointed and disturbed. “Miguel, man, you’re playing with some <em>serious</em> fire right now,” he warned him. “And I don’t wanna get burned by this. Remember, Sam’s our friend. And isn’t she still your girlfriend?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Separated,” Demetri reminded him, raising an index finger for emphasis.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rolled his eyes and pointed out, “Hey, you guys volunteered to help.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And I’m beginning to seriously regret offering my assistance,” remarked Demetri, frowning. The expression on his face suggested a guilty conscience was starting to brew inside him. “But I suppose we all agreed to the pact."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Think we can at least grab some sushi while we’re here?” asked Chris. Miguel mentally thanked him for changing the subject. “You think the ponzu toro’s as good at this place as what Mr. LaRusso made us that day?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Actually, maybe both of you should hang back for a bit,” suggested Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shrugged, stopping when they reached the building at the end of the block. “Alright, you’re the head honcho of this operation, it’s your call,” he stated, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “If you need us, just blow the Horn of Gondor, we’ll come to your aid.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris raised an eyebrow at Demetri. “Uh, yeah,” he agreed. Giving Miguel a nod, he said, “We’ll be right here. Call out if you need us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two Miyagi-Dos lingered behind while Miguel continued on alone. He stared ahead, over to the podium at the front of the restaurant a few feet away. There she was, dressed in her red jacket, standing at the entrance to greet the customers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Casting one more glance at Demetri and Chris from over his shoulder, Miguel stuffed his hands in his pockets. He passed the tables lined up for outdoor seating, strolling up as casually as he could manage until he reached her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hi, welcome to….” Tory’s customer service smile dropped when she looked up to see who greeted her now. “Wow. <em>Really</em>?” she asked incredulously, her stare barbed and accusatory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” Miguel greeted, shifting on his feet. “I was here to see if—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Weren’t you guys supposed to stay away from us until the Tournament?” demanded Tory, peeking over her shoulder to the inside of the restaurant, like she was looking out for her boss or watching to see if someone was paying any attention to them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel could only wonder how Sensei Kreese had explained the truce to his students, and how they all took it; considering how Kyler had been acting at school, probably not all that serious. He assured Tory, “I’m not here to fight. I wanna talk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory let out a scoff, shaking her head. “You wanna talk? And you decided the best time to do this is while I’m on the clock?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When she stated it so bluntly like that, it did sound pretty stupid. But he was here now, he was on a mission, and it was the only way he could think of to confront her that wouldn’t risk erupting into a fight. Miguel had known Tory wouldn’t risk her job just to get payback against him. Still, in hindsight, he wondered if he shouldn’t have started out with messaging her on Instagram first or something, to open the channel of communication.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Well, there was nothing to do about it at this point. So Miguel told her point-blank, “I came to see if you wanted to join Eagle Fang.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re joking, right?” Tory eyed him up and down, thoroughly unimpressed by his mission statement by the looks of it. “Weird, I don’t see you laughing. Must not be a very funny joke then. Speaking of jokes though, does the Princess know you’re here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel took a calming breath. He definitely wasn’t about to broach that subject with her; no need to whack the hornets’ nest yet. “I know you’re upset with me. And I’ve been thinking about what I said before, when we last talked here. I didn’t realize how bad things were at Cobra Kai at the time, or what Sensei Kreese was teaching you guys.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Another huff passed Tory’s lips. Her fingers brushed a loose strand of gradient-blonde hair behind her ear. “And now that you’re teamed up with Miyagi-Do, like the rest of the traitors under Sensei Lawrence, you probably think you know everything about Sensei Kreese, don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know he’s not good for you,” answered Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, and <em>you</em> do?” asked Tory pointedly. “Why don’t you tell me what’s <em>good</em> for me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That sounded like a loaded question, one Miguel didn’t have the answer to. So instead he deflected, asking her, “Wouldn’t you rather be around your friends than those guys Kreese dragged into Cobra Kai?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Friends.” Tory let out a single, contemptuous laugh. “That’s cute.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m serious. We want you in Eagle Fang. Sensei, the other guys, me, we’d all love to have you back. I know things can never be exactly the same as they were. I mean, Aisha’s still gone." Miguel paused a moment, noting a twinge of sadness glossing over Tory’s eyes as he mentioned Aisha. She and Tory had been close, and he wondered how Tory had taken the news of Aisha’s parents moving her away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And once again, his stomach rumbled as he thought about what he’d told Tory the last time they’d spoken at this place. <em>Nobody else got hurt, Tory.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But even though things have changed,” he continued, “there’s still a place for you at the new dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel watched her face soften, saw a resemblance of a small, hesitant smile curl around the corners of her mouth. And he grabbed onto that change in her expression like a fish on a hook. Was she giving it serious thought? Was she willing to at least give it a try? Wouldn’t she have been so much happier with them in Eagle Fang, instead of stuck with the likes of Kyler at Cobra Kai? And Robby….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey! Are you two waiting to be seated? You can’t loiter here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s head darted over his shoulder, looking down the rows of tables outside to see a waitress confronting Demetri and Chris, who were coming up with some fast excuse to explain their presence. And it was only then that he realized his mistake of casting a glance in their direction. Miguel grimaced as he turned back around to face Tory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Tory’s eyes spotted the members of Miyagi-Do, Miguel watched her expression warp in a flash. The smile stayed on her mouth, but all softness dissolved, leaving behind one looking especially insincere. “Backup, huh?” she stated accusingly, turning her glare back on him, along with an arched, sharp eyebrow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And with that look, Miguel knew any small amount of trust he might have earned with Tory evaporated. Of course she would view having them there as an act of aggression on his part. He winced again. “Tory, it’s—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well,” Tory said, cutting him off, “at least your time with the Miyagi-Dos hasn’t made you soft. Just stupid.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel put his hands on the hostess stand. “No, Tory, please listen, all I really wanted to say was I’m—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A man suddenly stepped outside, walking up to them. His attired suggested a supervisor. “Tory, what’s keeping you?” he asked, his voice tinged with clear irritation. “We got three tables waiting.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sorry, Bruce,” Tory replied. Gesturing to Miguel, she told him, “This <em>gentleman</em> here was refusing to place an order or let me seat him, and I can’t get him to leave.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel opened his mouth to object to the lie, but Bruce the Supervisor turned to face him. “Kid, this is a restaurant,” he explained with a patronizing lilt to every word, exactly like Miguel would expect from a supervisor of a restaurant that bougie. “If you’re not gonna eat, you need to leave or we’ll escort—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, it’s fine,” said Miguel, taking a step back and holding up his hands. “I was just about to go anyway.” He gave Tory one more look, wishing it could convey how sorry he was on its own, before turning around.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He walked a few steps down, passing by the customers and avoiding their stares. Halfway to reaching Demetri and Chris, Miguel spared a glance over his shoulder. He waited for a minute, waiting to see if Tory would afford him that same glimpse. But she kept her focus on her work. Where it belonged, sure, but that didn’t stop the guilt from crushing Miguel’s insides as he turned again and made his way back to his friends.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Towards the end of practice that day, while Sam was helping Miguel through the movements of a new kata, she asked him, “Hey, did you want to grab some In-N-Out once things wrap up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel paused mid-movement, almost making him lose balance and fall over. Sam put a hand on his back to steady him. “Uh, sure!” he answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Dozens of questions flooded his mind all at once, almost making him lightheaded. Why was she asking him this? Why now? Why their new special place? Technically it wasn’t a date, right? Was she ready to get back together? The last thought had his heart thumping in his ribcage.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And it must have manifested on his face in a cheesy grin because Sam was smiling back at him. “Great! I gotta drop Demetri off first, but meet you there at five-thirty?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel almost said <em>It’s a date</em>. “Definitely. My treat.” His mouth twitched slightly at those words. And for a moment, his eyes wandered over to the other part of the yard where Hawk and Bert had been training together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, now that we got that pussy shit out of the way,” said Hawk dismissively after he and Bert half-assed their way through their kata, “show me your high kick.” He’d been trying to help Bert improve on it all week, but his teammate was struggling to improve his speed and his aim.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert nodded, raising his fists and getting in position. He started shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, pumping himself up. He even tried getting his game face on, as much as he was able, narrowing his eyes and scowling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But when he kept doing all that for a solid minute without actually attacking, Hawk got impatient. “Dude, stop hesitating and kick me in the face!” he exclaimed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Right,” agreed Bert. Taking another few seconds to amp himself, he finally pivoted around with a sharp turn, launching his foot out. Hawk took a step back, making Bert miss, causing him to spin too far and lose his stability. He teetered over and fell to the ground with a yelp. Meanwhile, Hawk stood in front of him, arms crossed and snickering. “Hey, you moved!” Bert complained.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, duh,” responded Hawk, reaching down to pull Bert back to his feet. “Your opponent isn’t gonna stand there and wait for you to get your shit together. You gotta attack faster than that, man.” Bert nodded again, adjusted his glasses.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With practice concluding, everyone breaking up and either chatting with each other or heading over towards the patio where they all placed their bags, Miguel approached Sensei Lawrence, who was pulling out his can of beer from the water cooler. Mr. LaRusso had complained to him about it for the millionth time that day, saying he shouldn’t be drinking in front of them, but the Eagle Fangs were so used to it they didn’t know why Mr. LaRusso kept bringing up the subject.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Sensei, instead of taking me home, can you drop me off at an In-N-Out?” Miguel asked. “It’s not that far, I’ll point it out to you on the way there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Swallowing his gulp of beer, Sensei Lawrence wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He left a knowing smirk behind it. “So, you and Miss LaRusso got a date, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel tilted his hand back and forth. “Eh, it’s complicated.” Everything for him had been nothing but complicated lately.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re lucky you found yourself a girl who appreciates quality beef,” said Sensei Lawrence. “Nothing’s worse than taking a chick out who orders a dainty salad or some shit. When you get one who’s got a hearty appetite, you know she’s a keeper.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Half-hearing his comment, Miguel reached a hand back to rub the nape of his neck. “Actually can I ask a question? A girl question?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It depends,” said Sensei Lawrence, taking another swig from the can. “Just remember LaRusso’s right over there, though, so if this is something you don’t want him to overhear about his daughter—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head. “It’s not about Sam. Actually, it’s about Tory.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence seemed to swallow that gulp down hard. “Oh yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ve been feeling pretty bad lately about the way things ended between us,” Miguel tried explaining. “I mean, I kissed Sam while I was still dating Tory. And things escalated from there. I keep thinking that if I’d thought more about how she was feeling about things, maybe she wouldn’t still be at Cobra Kai. What do you think I should tell her?” He bit his bottom lip, holding out on confessing to Sensei Lawrence that he’d gone and already tried talking to her earlier that day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He remembered how he’d tried calling Sensei Lawrence about the whole situation shortly before the school fight. He hadn’t been able to reach him. He’d had to leave him a voicemail. They never got to talk about it. How much more different might things have turned out, Miguel wondered, if he’d been able to reach Sensei and talk about what had happened then?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s expression went taut, almost unreadable. Like he was hiding something behind a look like that. “Listen,” he said, his tone getting solemn, almost strangely morose, “sometimes when you screw things up with chicks, when you don’t think about how the things you do can hurt them, well, sometimes there’s no coming back from that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His words took Miguel aback. He stood there for a moment, jaw slack. That wasn’t the advice he’d expected to receive from Sensei. Not from the man who’d once told him the secret to getting a girlfriend was never giving up the pursuit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Wait, so we should let Tory stay with Cobra Kai?” asked Miguel. Sensei really wanted to just leave her there without making an effort to convince her to join Eagle Fang? That sounded like giving up. That had never been the Cobra Kai way, and Miguel assumed it wouldn’t be the way of the Eagle either. Eagles weren’t chickens, after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Sensei Lawrence told him, “Look, let me handle all of that business with Kreese and Cobra Kai, alright? You just concentrate on getting ready for the All-Valley. In the meantime, stay away from the kids from that dojo. Understand?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes, Sensei.” He figured it was a good call not confessing to his confrontation with Tory earlier. And apparently word about <em>Operation: Assblast</em> hadn’t made its way to Sensei Lawrence yet. Miguel supposed Sensei didn’t need to know about either if that was his stance on the subject. And it sounded pretty final that it was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel pinched his brows together but couldn’t think of anything else to say. Because what if Sensei was right? What if there was no coming back from his mistake with Tory…?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk walked over to the water cooler to grab his bottle, casting a glance at Miguel as he spoke with Sensei Lawrence while the two of them started walking away, followed by the others of Eagle Fang who needed a ride from Sensei.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, ready to give me those boxing lessons?” asked Mitch, stepping up beside him and slapping him on the shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smirked, jutting his chin out towards the punching bag. “You better be ready to break a real sweat, ‘cause I’m gonna put you through the wringer.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch reached into his nearby backpack on the deck. “I got us some wraps, too. So we can hit harder and not break our knuckles. Gotta save that for busting noses, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The curl around Hawk’s mouth softened into a more heartfelt smile as he accepted it. “Good idea, thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them sat down on the edge of the desk and started wrapping their hands up with the strips of red cloth. Mitch spared him a glance. “Hey, I gotta ask,” he said, “what’s a guy gotta do to get a new nickname from Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk raised his eyebrows. “Not digging Penis Breath, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Honestly, I’d rather have stuck with Assface,” admitted Mitch, mouth twisting in unease as he continued wrapping the strip of cloth between his fingers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You want me to go back to calling you Assface, see if it catches on again?” joked Hawk, risking a grin with a jest like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch let out a breathy, awkward laugh. “Eh….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk hadn’t thought so. And even though they both smiled at each other, a pang of discomfort rumbled in his stomach thinking about all the times he’d called Mitch that. It had been part of the hazing. All the students had to go through it, right? But then, it had been more than that, hadn’t it? Miguel may have been the one to give Mitch his first nickname, but it was Hawk who had gotten a real taste for weaponizing it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Securing the velcro around his wrist as finished wrapping his right hand, Hawk steeled himself so he wouldn’t stutter before admitting to Mitch, “If it makes you feel any better, I had to put up with a shitty nickname from him for a while, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch’s expression pinched in surprise. “Get outta here. You?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk knitted his brows together, feeling his ears warm. “If you don’t want Sensei to call you Penis Breath, you should tell him,” he said. Part of him wondered if that was good advice, remembering the day he’d asked Sensei Lawrence to stop calling him Lip. But if he never did that, he never would’ve earned his name as Hawk. It had been a risk, and it had hurt him, but it had paid off in the end.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Judging by the look on his face, Mitch seemed to be taking his advice into consideration. “I was actually wondering,” he pondered, unraveling the other wrap, “do you think Sensei even knows my name? Like, my actual name?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk didn’t have an answer for him, so he let the two of them continue wrapping their hands in silence. He glanced up when Sam passed by them and went to pick up her bag, watching as she flashed Demetri a grin from where he was packing his things up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You about ready?” Sam asked him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Absolutely,” answered Demetri, shoving his water bottle into his backpack and zipping up. “I gotta say, you’re looking in a great mood right now. You got plans?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam nodded. “Actually, yeah. Miguel and I are gonna meet up and get a burger after I drop you off at your place. There’s a couple things I want to talk to him about.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk narrowed his eyes and pressed his mouth in a thin line, tightening the cloth wrap across his palm. His gut sank. Sam and Miguel meeting up to talk? That could only mean one thing, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s good! Really great! I’m glad to hear you two kids are making it work,” replied Demetri, the pitch in his voice rising too high. Hawk paused wrapping his left hand, raising an eyebrow in his friend’s direction, recognizing that fake casualness in him immediately.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While slipping her bag over her shoulder, Sam must have noticed, too. It didn’t help with the way Demetri had crossed his arms and tried acting all nonchalant by leaning against the building. “Everything alright?” she asked him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s forced grin started to falter. His expression pinched in miserable frustration, like his allegiance was being torn in two different directions and he was going to lose no matter what; and for a split-second, Hawk was worried Demetri was going to break his promise and spill his secret. His friend chewed on his bottom lip for a long moment before letting out a groan. “Actually, I should probably tell you something. About earlier today….”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. In-N-Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel drummed his fingers against the table. He paused to check his watch. Fifteen minutes late now. Sighing, he grabbed his chocolate shake and took a sip, wondering what was keeping Sam. Had she hit gridlock? Was Demetri keeping her behind schedule by going off on some nerd tangent? Had Sam run into trouble…?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Thankfully that last thought didn’t have long enough to worm its way into the core of his brain, as Sam walked into the In-N-Out at that exact moment. “Sam, over here,” Miguel called out, waving from his booth, a smile lighting up his face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A smile Sam pointedly did not share. She practically threw herself into the seat across from his, eyes sharp like steel. But her complexion was pale and her bottom lip quivered the slightest. Miguel thought she looked like she was going to be sick.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam, what—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“When were you going to tell me about Tory?” she demanded point-blank, crossing her arms.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyes widened. How did she…? But the realization struck him quick. Demetri. He must have snitched to Sam. He did mention how uncomfortable he’d been the entire mission. He must not have been able to keep it secret from his teammate. Shit. “I don’t know how much Demetri told you,” Miguel said, “but—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She cut him off again. “He told me enough. You really went to go ask her to join the dojo? Miguel, how could you do that?” Sam sounded really upset now and was showing it, too. Her shoulders were starting to shake, even as she tried hiding that fact by wrapping her hands tighter over her elbows, like she was freezing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He knew this would be her response. And he had had no desire to hurt her with what he’d done. How could he even begin to explain himself, explain to <em>her</em> why he’d done it anyway? Still, he had to try. “If Tory joined Eagle Fang, that would’ve been a blow against Cobra Kai,” answered Miguel. “Isn’t that what we want?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t think Sam’s eyes could get any bigger. She looked like she was at the end of her patience. “You knew she was never going to join.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head. “Sam, I know you’re upset—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, you don’t!” Sam snapped. “You have no clue how upset I am!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had to give a quick glance to see if they were attracting attention by this point; other than a sideways stare from the person behind the register, nobody else was giving them the time of day, at least. But he didn’t want to get them kicked out, so he tried calming down Sam again. “Please, just listen—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, <em>you</em> listen!” countered Sam, her tone making Miguel’s shoulders tense. “That’s the whole problem, you <em>never</em> listen to me when I try telling you about how I feel about these things you keep doing. You ask me to trust Hawk, despite everything he did to us, just because he’s your friend! You want me to be okay when you push yourself too hard, even though you could have hurt yourself so bad you risked putting yourself out of the Tournament! And now this whole situation with Tory? Did you stop to think even for a second how I would feel about her being in the dojo?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Of course he had. But didn’t he also have an obligation to try and patch things up with Tory, too? Because wasn’t him kissing Sam what set Tory off in the first place? Miguel’s breath started to quicken. What was the right thing to do? What should he have done differently if this wasn’t it?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t know. And, not knowing, on the defensive now, sick of being cut off every time he tried explaining himself, he turned to the little voice in his head telling him that Sam wouldn’t be nearly this upset if he’d reached out to another Cobra instead of Tory. “Would you be mad if I’d asked Robby to join the dojo instead?” Miguel demanded to know.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam shook her head in disbelief. “You’re deflecting,” she accused him. “This has nothing to do with Robby, don’t change the subject.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His face was warm now as he felt the phantom chill crawl up his spine again. He suspected that would be Sam’s response. Because it would keep her from saying what she really thought about the elephant in the room. “No, come on, answer my question,” he said, slipping his hands off the table as they started shaking, wrapping them over his knees instead so Sam wouldn’t notice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re doing it again! You’re not listening to me! Miguel, Tory sliced my arm open!” Sam exclaimed, sliding her jacket off her shoulder, pulling down the sleeve to show the scars.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s gut sank further upon being reminded of the damage Sam had suffered from being cut by Tory’s bracelet. He reminded himself to try and see this from Sam’s perspective. Hadn’t he earlier today tried fixing things with Tory because he’d said something he hadn’t meant in a moment of self-pity? But he nevertheless frowned harder. He wondered, why bother? If Sam didn’t care about his motivations for reaching out to Tory, why not feel what he wanted to feel, what he <em>was</em> feeling?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel decided to let his emotions fly, too. He doubled-down. “And Robby almost killed me!” he threw back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That was an accident!” retorted Sam, exasperation cracking her voice. “Everything Tory did was pre-meditated. Robby paid for his mistake, he did his time. Tory’s the one who should’ve been locked up in a cage!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">More blood rushed to Miguel’s face, swimming under the skin like a hot current. An accident. Robby kicking him over the balcony had been an accident. And that <em>accident</em> had cost him months of his life. Months of depression, anger, self-doubt, of wondering over and over again, <em>What if I’d just broken his arm instead?</em> Of then berating himself for even thinking that. <em>Oh God, what would Sensei think of me?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">An accident.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now it was Miguel’s bottom lip that was trembling. He clenched his jaw tighter to stop it. And he narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring with his erratic breaths. “So-So you’d be cool if Robby showed up tomorrow and wanted to rejoin Miyagi-Do, huh?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Stop making this about Robby!” Sam snapped. “God, can’t you stop acting like a selfish asshole for two seconds?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, so <em>I’m</em> the asshole?” retorted Miguel. “Why, because I actually <em>want</em> to end this stupid dojo war? Because have you ever stopped to think that if Kreese didn’t have any students, there’d be no more war between our dojos and Cobra Kai? Because there’d be no more Cobra Kai anymore! And isn’t that what you guys want? Hasn’t that been what your dad’s <em>always</em> wanted? What, you can’t even stomach the thought of putting up with Tory, even if it meant Cobra Kai disappeared from the Valley forever? Because I’d rather see Robby back at Miyagi-Do than stomach another day of him being in the dojo<em> I</em> helped build! And <em>I’m</em> the one being selfish?! Because it sounds to me like you are!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as the words stopped pouring from his mouth, as soon as they finished reaching his ears, Miguel’s jaw went slack. Sam stared at him from across the booth, shoulders rising and falling with her heightened breathing, the same as his. The color had left her cheeks. She looked so hurt. So indescribably wounded by his words.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Whatever was going to originally happen between them at this fast-food joint before Sam learned about Tory, Miguel figured he’d be left guessing for the rest of his life. But for now, all he could mutter was, “It’s over between us, isn’t it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s bottom lip was still quivering, even when she bit down on it. But she managed to find her voice long enough answer his question. “Yes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded once before letting his eyes drift to the table, unable to look at her anymore. As his previous irritability started waning, it left behind a deep, aching pain in his chest. Why had he acted that way? Where had that come from? Why did he literally say everything he shouldn’t have? Was she right? Had he been too flippant with her feelings?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What was the right thing to do?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hated having to say the words that came out of his mouth next. “I need a ride.” He supposed he could have sent a message to the group chat. Called his mom, or maybe Sensei. Someone would have come to pick him up. But he didn’t want to wait. At that moment, he just wanted to get back home.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel could barely look at Sam’s face again after telling her that. But he caught the way she blinked heavily, so much so she had to reach up a hand to wipe at them. She pressed her lips together, trying to hardest to mask a sniffle; he at least had the decency to not point out she didn’t hide it well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But she must have remembered the pact. No matter what, they all had each other’s backs. “Okay,” she said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was the worst, most stressful car ride Miguel had ever experienced in his life. Maybe the most strained car ride in all human history. Both of them avoided looking at each other the entire way. No words were spoken. Not even any music from the Bluetooth to distract them from every sigh, every sniffle, every thumping of the heart. Pure, agonizing silence from the time it took to drive from the burger place to Reseda Heights.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks,” Miguel mumbled after getting out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam didn’t respond. She kept her stare fixated straight ahead at the windshield, fingers gripping the wheel they were wrapped around. She blinked over and over again, like looking at Miguel would be enough on its own to break the fragile, cracking dam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Not knowing what else to say, Miguel walked away. He made it to his apartment door without looking back. If Sam broke down in angry, despondent tears as soon as he shut the door behind him, he never found out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel, dude, go easy on the beer.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel squinted at Mitch where he sat on the other side of the little campfire they’d lit for themselves before reaching into the cooler they’d brought with them and grabbing another can of beer. “It’s only my second can,” he said, popping the tab with one harsh jerk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but you chugged that first one down like you were at a frat party,” observed Hawk as Miguel came back over and sat beside him on their towel. “We only got two six-packs, let’s make ‘em last.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slurping the top suds from his can, Miguel tried not to think about how much he would’ve enjoyed downing an entire six-pack himself at that moment. One can after another until he was completely numb and didn’t feel anything anymore. That sounded great.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It hadn’t taken long for news of his and Sam’s fight to reach everyone else in the dojo. For the couple of days that followed, the teams were pretty evenly divided by their respective sides. Eagle Fang defended Miguel’s choice to reach out to Tory. Miyagi-Do supported Sam’s response. But Miguel suspected everyone was probably tired of being hit by shrapnel whenever things between him and Sam blew up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Still, the Eagles had insisted a night on the beach would be good for him, and Miguel would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit he longed for the company. He couldn’t stand the thought of being by himself right now. He’d spent too much time alone during his recovery.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert, who had found a hermit crab and was having fun letting it crawl over his hands, piped in with his opinion. “I mean, I think you had a point, Miguel. If Tory came to Eagle Fang, then that’s one less student for Cobra Kai. Isn’t that a good thing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Especially since this is bigger than the All-Valley for Sensei Kreese,” said Mitch before taking a swig.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk added, “This is nothing short of a war for him, it always has been, and you can’t fight a war without soldiers. If Miyagi-Do can’t see that then they still don’t get what’s at stake.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” mumbled Miguel, swallowing another sip as he let his eyes drift to the campfire. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about a karate war. Because him reaching out to Tory was less of a calculated move on his part to rob Sensei Kreese of one of his strongest soldiers, like he’d led Sam to believe. None of them were soldiers, they were kids. They were friends. Or at least, he and Tory had been. More than that, even, before he’d cheated on her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All he’d wanted was to do was fix his mistake. All he’d ever wanted was to do the right thing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Between letting Robby go and getting his back broken for his troubles, and trying to correct wronging Tory, only to break things totally between him and Sam, Miguel was starting to suspect that no good deed ever went unpunished in the world.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And all of it went back to that night at Moon’s party. Why had he been drinking? Why had he let Sam drink so much? Why didn’t he stop them from kissing before it was too late? Or shit, maybe it went back even further to that party he and the Cobras had at the canyon. He’d been drinking there, too. Started the fight with Robby, accidentally hit Sam. Everything had gone south from there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking another swig from his beer, Miguel stared at the flames of the campfire for a few minutes. The random cinders that broke from the branches that broke into the air before evaporating into smoke could be so mesmerizing. “You ever think about the bad decisions we’ve made while we’re drunk?” he mumbled aloud, probably sounding apropos of nothing to the other guys, but he didn’t care.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swallowed his own sip and smirked. He quipped, “Maybe <em>you</em> have. I make all my worst decisions stone-cold sober. Should I give the shit-faced decision-making a try for a change?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got a soft chuckle out of Miguel. “I wouldn’t rec it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh man, speaking of stone-cold and shit-faced,” chimed in Mitch, “one time Chris and I got into my dad’s liquor cabinet and took a few shots of whiskey. Then we decided to try the Stone Cold Stunner right there in the living room. Bam! Chris stunned me right onto the living room table, smashed it in half. Oof. I mean, it was great and all, but I still got grounded for a month after that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert and Hawk joined in laughing at Mitch’s story, but Miguel looked like he’d started zoning out, getting that blank look on his face while he silently drank his beer.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk noticed that look. And he knew Miguel was gonna clamp up and only get gloomier if he continued down this path. As much as Hawk was ready for Miguel to finally put Sam behind him, he didn’t want to see his friend sink into a depression hole like was becoming his habit whenever he and Sam argued. This time he wanted to nip it in the bud if he could.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing up to stretch his legs, he walked over to the other side of the fire, reaching down to grab a new beer. He then leaned closer to Mitch. “Hey, can you take Bert on a walk down to the pier?” he asked him under his breath. “Miguel and I need to talk alone for a bit, y’know, man-to-man. Here, get all of us some burgers or pizza or something, on me.” He slipped a couple of twenties in Mitch’s hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch shrugged but smiled. “Sure thing. Hey, Bert! Let’s go to the pier and grab some grub, man! I’m starving. Miguel, you up for a slice?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over on his towel, Miguel rolled a shoulder half-heartedly. “I guess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If we see any babes up at the pier, we’ll let you know,” called out Bert, setting the hermit crab down near the water before he and Mitch started walking away down the ocean’s edge.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once the two were at a good distance, Hawk popped the tab off his new beer and returned to Miguel. “Alright, while they’re gone, you wanna just let it all out?” he suggested, sitting back down next to him. “Like scream at the sky? Kick the lifeguard stand? Maybe go punch the ocean or something?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The thought was tempting. “You sure you didn’t get them out of here so you could put your moves on me?” jested Miguel. Reaching out to playfully punch Hawk’s shoulder when his friend let out a breathy laugh at that, he clarified, “I’m joking, by the way.” Perhaps that wasn’t a good thing to joke about. He didn’t need to make things uncomfortable between them again. Especially when he was enjoying Hawk’s company.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was starting to feel the effects of the drinking by now. At least the parts of it that made him think things were sillier than they probably were. Setting his second empty can aside, Miguel laid on his back on the towel with an exaggerated sigh. Beside him, Hawk lied down on his side, propping his head up on his elbow to avoid messing up his hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, did you and Tory hang out together much? Y’know, at Kreese’s Cobra Kai?” asked Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk rolled his shoulder. “Sometimes. Most of the time we only saw each other at the dojo, since the LaRussos got her expelled from school and all. But sometimes we’d stop by Nestor’s to grab a drink and hang out for a bit. Y’know, going over stuff from class, talking shit about Sa—Miyagi-Do.” He corrected himself fast. Even after the blowup, Miguel most likely didn’t want to hear about the instances he and Tory had bonded over their mutual dislike of Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed again, staring up at the starry sky. If only Sensei had fought for Cobra Kai sooner. If only he’d acted against Kreese sooner….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Why spend so much time and energy playing these if-only games, Miguel berated himself? Better to focus on the present, and the facts of the present were that Cobra Kai needed to go down, the only way that was going to happen was by defeating them at the All-Valley Tournament, and he’d gone and ruined everything good he’d had with Sam for thinking otherwise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel knew would be no going back with Sam now. After the things they said to each other, even he couldn’t deny that things were irreparably broken at this point. He’d yelled at her twice. He and Sam had been in and out of each other’s hearts several times, but this? There was no coming back from this, was there? He could hear Sensei Lawrence’s advice from the other day, reminding him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Sometimes when you screw things up with chicks, when you don’t think about how the things you do can hurt them, well, sometimes there’s no coming back from that.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He couldn’t seem to stop hurting girls’ feelings lately.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think I was right before,” Miguel mumbled.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“About what?” asked Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling over on his side to face him, Miguel clarified, “I think I should just give up on girls for a while.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Thanks to the reflection from the campfire, he could see Hawk’s eyes dart a little at that. “I’d say that after you become a two-time All-Valley champ you’d be able to get any chick in the whole state you want,” said Hawk, crooked smile curling up his face, “but since I’m gonna beat you in the finals this year, I guess you’re just stuck being an incel.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I should throw you in the ocean for that one,” joked Miguel. “But I’ll be nice and not ruin your mohawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They both chuckled at that. Then things got quiet again for a few minutes. There were the people in the distance, the sounds of the ocean waves crashing and ebbing, and their own individual breaths as Miguel contemplated over his thoughts. And he realized he didn’t want to scream at the sky or beat up the ocean. What he wanted at that moment more than anything was some understanding.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” he said, looking beside him at Hawk. “Remember those things you told me, about when Kreese brought Robby into Cobra Kai?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes met his for a moment. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“How did the others react? The guys? Tory?” asked Miguel, his voice dropping to almost a mutter. Now Hawk’s sight flitted away, giving Miguel his answer. And he remembered Tory’s picture on Instagram, of her and Robby at the skatepark. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kreese was the one who told us all to accept him there. Something about the enemy of the enemy being our ally. He wanted us to think <em>you</em> were the enemy instead of Robby. It’s such bullshit. Cobra Kai was supposed to be for life,” mumbled Hawk, looking at him again, his face strained by guilt. “Do you think it can mean something real in Eagle Fang instead?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It can if we <em>make</em> it mean something,” he answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smiled at his response and looked resolved to live up to that. It made Miguel’s memories linger on their evening in the park. Him placing his hand over his own.…</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>I figured it wasn’t Cobra Kai I cared about anymore…It was you.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel parted his lips. He almost leaned forward. Why not kiss him, he thought? Hawk would probably be down for it if he asked, right? Was that why Hawk’s lips had parted, too? What would it be like to kiss a guy? Probably not all that different than kissing a girl. What would it be like kissing Hawk specifically, though? At that moment, Miguel wanted to find out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then his conscience pushed through any alcoholic fuzz that had loosened his inhibition and told him to stop. It was the beer talking. It was his loneliness talking. Wouldn’t that be him rebounding again? Wasn’t that what he’d done to Tory? Kissed her that first date on the playground to prove to himself he’d gotten over Sam when clearly he hadn’t? It hadn’t been fair to her then and it wouldn’t be fair to Hawk now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Put it away for time being, he told himself. If it <em>was</em> real, it would come back later, when he wasn’t so depressed. Maybe Hawk would still have that same look on his face then that he did now….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel was ripped back to reality by the arrival of Bert and Mitch as the two of them returned to their site. Mitch held up a big box in his hands, calling out, “Alright, who’s up for a meat lovers?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Time and Patience</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">When Chris came at him with a forward punch, Miguel leaned backward, causing him to miss. Miguel then pivoted on his right leg, driving his left knee up, ready to land the point on his opponent’s chest. But Chris’s arms flew up, blocking his knee in time and pushing it back. When Miguel turned around to deliver a counter punch, Chris had shifted around faster, catching him with a firm hit to his gut first.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point, Chris,” called out Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The other students clapped while Miguel and Chris resumed their places. It was tied one-one now. The next point would decide the winner.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence announced, “Begin!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Quickly closing the distance, Miguel attempted to deliver a powerful kick to Chris’s shins, one he avoided with the help of a sharp turn. Chris threw his hands up in front of him in time to also block Miguel’s back-to-back punches that followed. Miguel shot out an arm to repel an attack from Chris’s elbow, and Chris jumped backward to dodge another one of his kicks.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel turned around, throwing a forceful punch, only for Chris to grab his arm. In one swift movement, rotating around, Chris flipped Miguel over his shoulder with a shout, sending him crashing to the ground. Before he could recover, Chris dropped to his knees and struck Miguel’s stomach with his fist, earning the point and the victory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso announced, “Winner, Chris.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good match,” said Miguel, standing back on his feet before reaching out to shake Chris’s hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, man,” returned Chris, accepting his handshake with a smile. Mitch and Demetri clapped him on the shoulders when he took his place back on the sidelines beside them. Sam and Nate also called out to him, congratulating him on his victory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel tried not letting his loss get to him, even putting on a grin for Sensei Lawrence when he gave him a single pat on the back on his way to his spot by Hawk and Bert. But he couldn’t shake the sinking self-doubt that bottomed out his stomach knowing it was the end of February. May was looming closer and closer and with it the specter of the All-Valley Tournament. That stung his gut way worse than Chris’s knuckles did.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">How was he ever going to defend his title?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri,” said Mr. LaRusso, gesturing to his student. “How about you next?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If you say so, Mr. L.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk watched his friend stand up, shaking out his lanky limbs as he took his spot. While Sensei Lawrence scanned the Eagles to find Demetri a challenger, all Hawk kept repeating in his head was, <em>Not me, not me, not me</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hawk. Get up there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He narrowed his eyebrows peevishly at his instructor, like he should’ve been able to read his mind, but responded with an affirmative, “Yes, Sensei.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You okay, Demetri?” asked Mr. LaRusso. Hawk’s ears burned and he avoided the look the teacher of Miyagi-Do shot him when he asked that question. And now he couldn’t help but wonder if Sensei Lawrence kept choosing him to fight Demetri on purpose.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Uh, yeah. I’m good.” Demetri’s eyes followed Hawk to his place across from where he stood. Hawk could tell he was trying to keep his expression as neutral as he could, but he still detected the fear in the way he licked his bottom lip, in the way he couldn’t stop shifting the weight on his legs, in the way his fingers twitched by his sides. But they still did their bows and got into their stances.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk waited for a second, to see if Demetri would attack first. He only gave him that spare moment, and when Demetri didn’t take it, he struck. He aimed a high punch, which Demetri pushed out of the way with his arm. Demetri countered with a kick aimed at his shoulder, which Hawk ducked under, causing Demetri to stumble and lose his footing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Demetri stabilized himself, Hawk swept in with a straight kick. His foot connected with Demetri’s chest, sending him flying to the ground with a loud grunt.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point, Hawk,” said Mr. LaRusso, giving Sensei Lawrence a sideways glance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two students took their positions again and as soon as Sensei Lawrence gave the signal, Hawk came at Demetri, opening with another punch. Demetri brought his right arm up to block it again and then tried driving his left elbow forward to land a blow on Hawk’s chest. But Hawk grabbed his right arm and twirled on his feet, shifting behind Demetri, prepared to flip him over his shoulder and on his back to land the point now that he’d temporarily immobilized him, just like Chris had done to Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, Eli, let go, please!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He almost didn’t even hear Demetri in that split-second until Sam’s voice cut in, too. “Let him go, now!” Then his hand released Demetri’s arm automatically.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk took a few steps back, putting distance between him and Demetri. Now he could hear his friend telling his teacher, “Mr. LaRusso, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happens, no, it’s okay, I’m fine! It just, it just….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s vision swept the expressions of the other members of Miyagi-Do. They all kept to the sidelines, but they wore their worry on their sleeves, as did Sam her anger when their eyes met. Even Chris and Nate looked upset. Hawk then glanced at Miguel, whose concern for both of them was evident on his face. Then he saw Sensei Lawrence’s unreadable countenance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Hawk’s brows knitted to the bridge of his nose. He let out an angry huff, feeling all of the muscles in his back tense. Why did Sensei Lawrence keep pitting him against Demetri?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaving the group behind, Hawk stormed off into the dojo to get away from them. He paced back and forth for a few minutes, fumbling with his fingers, trying to think of what he should do. Leave, right? Go back? Put up with the looks of everyone after that fiasco? Act like everything was normal? Maybe he really should leave for the day. They were probably sick of him anyway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wait, don’t go.” Demetri’s voice stopped him on his way to the door. And when Hawk turned around to stare at him while his friend approached his side, he frowned. It only deepened when Demetri continued. “Look, about what happened back there, I told you before, I don’t care if I can’t fight you one-on-one. I’ve never cared about that. As long as you and I can still hang out, maybe watch some Dr. Who from time to time, I’m cool with that. That’s all that matters to me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well karate matters to me,” retorted Hawk. “And since you and I are finally doing it together now, I thought…. You should've let me help you with that! I told you I’d help you get over your fear and you wouldn’t let me! You won’t let me fix this!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rubbing his temple, Demetri told him, “I really don’t want to just let you keep twisting my arm until I’m okay with it. I don’t think that’s how immersion therapy works, to be honest, and even if it was you’re probably not the one who should be doing it. That’s the problem, Eli, you think there’s a quick and easy fix to this. I’m…I’m not sure there is.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk wondered if Demetri was talking about the arm now or everything else.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Whenever he thought things were starting to go okay, something always happened to remind him that things would <em>never </em>be okay. Miyagi-Do was <em>never</em> going to forgive him for the things he did. No amount of backing Chris up during his work shift or including Nate in retaliations against Cobra Kai was going to take back what he’d done. They were never going to see him as anything more than a bully, an asshole, a monster one bad day away from striking them all down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk clenched his jaw and tried swallowing his self-pity back down, failing miserably. “Sometimes I really <em>hate</em> it here,” he admitted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shook his head. That comment hit him hard, judging by the way his mouth slackened. “You can’t blame us for that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Narrowing his eyes, Hawk snapped, “I didn’t say I did!” When his hands started shaking by his sides, he tightened them into fists. It didn’t help. Neither did the attempts to control his erratic breathing that had started picking up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Breathing which caught in the back of his throat when he and Demetri heard footsteps enter the dojo. They both turned to see it was Mr. LaRusso who’d walked in. Hawk’s face heated up. He hadn’t meant to attract the attention of either of their teachers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri, give us a minute, will you?” requested Mr. LaRusso after stepping up to them, giving Demetri a pat on his shoulder. Demetri gave one glance at Hawk, looking like he wanted to stay. But he nodded and did as he was asked, strolling back outside of the dojo. Meanwhile, Mr. LaRusso turned his attention to Hawk, giving the kid a hard look. “I gotta admit, Hawk, when Sensei Lawrence said you’d be joining Eagle Fang, I wasn’t exactly thrilled by that news.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shrugged. Sensei Lawrence had given him a pretty good impression of how that discussion must’ve gone. What could he say to that? “I guess not.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’ve been surprising me, though,” said Mr. LaRusso, catching Hawk by surprise. “Showing up, doing all the lessons. Well, most of them. Maybe one day we can get you on the balance wheel.” He paused for a moment, giving Hawk another observing glance, really looking at him like he was trying to read him. “You look like someone who can use a little balance in his life. To be honest, you look like a kid who’s trying to be someone he’s not.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“How do <em>you</em> know who I am?” asked Hawk, his tone going hard.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso shook his head, answering honestly, “I don’t. Only you can know that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes flitted some, unable now to hold the man’s gaze. “I don’t know what to do to help with Demetri,” he said, wanting to get the attention off himself. Demetri was a more pressing matter, anyway. And after a few hesitant seconds, the guilt churning in him loosened his tongue, adding, “I’ve wrecked everything with him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Doesn’t look that way to me,” observed Mr. LaRusso softly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">This was so unlike his conversations with Sensei Lawrence, it caught Hawk off-guard. He found himself lowering that very guard now to this man, the face of the former enemy. After all, Mr. LaRusso was Demetri’s Sensei. Maybe he would have an idea what he should do. “I’ve told him I’m sorry. For everything I did,” he confessed. “And I really am but I know it’s not enough. I know it’s my fault. I did everything wrong but at the time it felt like the right thing to do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It had felt so right at the time. Miyagi-Do was the enemy, they always had been. They were a threat to Cobra Kai. They were to blame for what happened to Miguel. If Hawk could make them pay, to get revenge on Miguel’s behalf, then it <em>was</em> the right thing to do as far as he thought. But that hadn’t been what Miguel wanted at all. His actions had horrified him. Which meant it had all been for nothing. He’d wrecked everything for nothing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso seemed to absorb his confession for a long moment before he raised an eyebrow, asking, “Has Sensei Lawrence talked to you about this?” Hawk almost let out a sharp laugh at that question. He managed to hold it in, although he couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting down to his feet. Mr. LaRusso picked up on it. “Uh-huh. I see.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk wanted to speak up in defense of his Sensei but all he could offer was, “He just said we don’t strike first anymore. And sometimes we should show mercy. And I’m trying to do all that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And that’s a start,” said Mr. LaRusso with a nod. “I really think you should have a talk with Sensei Lawrence. But, Hawk? I might know a thing or two myself about wrecking things. Where it feels like the whole world is coming down on you? And if you’re even a little like me, then it’s probably your guilt that’s punishing you more than anybody else. But just know this: Mr. Miyagi taught me everything can heal. It just takes time and patience.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Time. It was the same advice Miguel had given him. Hawk wished he had a more concrete solution because it felt like there would never be enough time in the world to make up for what he did. And a little voice in his ear warned him Mr. LaRusso wouldn’t be giving him the time of day right now if he knew <em>he</em> was the one who’d vandalized his dojo, the one who stole that medal of honor he kept displayed in the case not a few feet away. He didn’t deserve this advice, that voice reminded him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk muttered back, “Yeah.” He turned around to go back outside, stopping for a second to look over his shoulder and add, “Thanks, Mr. LaRusso.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He stepped into the backyard and took his spot with the rest of the class, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of Sensei Lawrence as he did so. Mr. LaRusso soon followed behind him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The rest of the class continued as it had been, with members from Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang squaring off in mock-tournament matches against one another. Hawk stuck close to the Eagles, avoiding the looks from Miyagi-Do. He had no clue what Demetri, Chris, or Nate must have been thinking of him at that moment; with Sam, at least, he knew, and that satisfied the guilt gnawing at his insides for the remainder of the lesson knowing at least where she stood with him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Afterward, the students all collected their bags and walked through the dojo towards the front door. Once they got there, however, all their chatter abruptly quieted and their feet planted where they stood like planks. Eyes widened and goose pimples started making hair stand on the backs of their necks.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because standing there, leaning against the hood of the yellow Ford, was Sensei Kreese.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory and Kyler stood close by their instructor, as well, arms crossed and expressions hard, fully prepared to defend him if it came to blows. Miguel gasped at the sight of them there at their dojo. Hawk’s face went neutral. But it was Demetri who turned around inside and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling out, “Mr. LaRusso! Sensei Lawrence! We got snakes in the grass!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His cries brought the two Senseis running to the front of their students. They, too, stopped when they saw who was there to greet them. It surprised Miguel to see it was Mr. LaRusso who immediately took a fighting stance. Sensei Lawrence only flexed his fists by his sides, even as his brows knitted together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What the hell are you doing here, Kreese?” demanded Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Kreese’s grim smile curled at the corners of his mouth. He never looked threatened, no matter what. Shrugging his shoulders, he gestured to the students behind the two men and said, “You might want to ask them why I had to pay a visit today.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri and Chris shared a knowing glance. Nate took a step back. Mitch looked beside him at Hawk. Miguel caught the way Sam stared at him from behind her father, as if to say, <em>See? I told you that was a bad idea</em>. Even Sensei Lawrence shot him a glare from over his shoulder. But all Sensei said in reply was, “How about you cut the bullshit games and get to the point? What do you want?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” replied Sensei Kreese, standing up straight now and removing his sunglasses. “I’m here because your students have been harassing mine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A single, derisive laugh escaped Mr. LaRusso. “Ha! Yeah, I’m sure that’s the whole story.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stared at Tory but she refused to meet his eyes. So he focused them on Kyler instead, who met his glare with a harsh one of his own. Miguel clenched his jaw, hoping at least that Kyler really did have to spill the <em>whole</em> story to his Sensei, especially the part about the Pepto-Bismol; he knew, deep down, however, Kyler had probably come up with his own version of the events. It had been naive of him to think Kyler would let that slide.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Kreese gesticulated to the students. “We all know how fragile a truce can be, especially in the hands of young soldiers who lack discipline. That’s why I’m here to tell you, I’m willing to overlook this transgression, for the sake of our original agreement. Our dojos remain on peaceful terms until the All-Valley. That’s what you Miyagi-Dos preach so much about, right? Peace? It’s up to you whether or not we’ll have that between now and the Tournament.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso scoffed again, shaking his head. “Where you’ll finally have the audience you really want.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I fully intend to bring real karate back to the Valley after reminding them what it looks like,” promised Sensei Kreese, his voice solemn and serious. “I can only hope your students will at least give them a good show when they face off against mine, but after what I observed today, I’m not sure you can even provide much in the way of entertainment.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shivered at the thought of Sensei Kreese watching them, especially without them knowing he was there. Any previous sense of safety he felt around the dojo began evaporating. Even here they weren’t safe.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What, you were spying on our kids during practice?” Sensei Lawrence demanded to know, creases at his mouth deepening around his frown, his fists clenching tighter at his sides. “You’re really sick, you know that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Kreese shrugged. “You have until May, Johnny,” he reminded him. “Less than three months now, and what do you have to show for your hard work in this new dojo? I’ll grant you that you have Hawk, but it seems you’re hellbent on wiping that killer instinct out of him that served him so well in Cobra Kai. I imagine soon he’ll regret choosing to turn traitor on his brothers and sister for your sake.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk hated the way Sensei Kreese stared at him as he said that, like a cobra hypnotizing its prey. So his vision traveled from Sensei Kreese over to where Tory stood beside him. That wasn’t much of an improvement. If glares could scorch, hers would’ve left first-degree burns in its wake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But the others?” continued Sensei Kreese. Glancing at Bert and Mitch, he said. “Most of your students are losers and rejects.” Then his gaze fell on Miguel and his mouth twisted in distaste. “And your champion is a washed-out has-been.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence took a threatening step forward. “You’ve said your piece. Now get outta here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Three months, Johnny,” Sensei Kreese repeated, unbothered by his old student’s threat. The smirk around the corner of his mouth curled higher as he gave a pointed look at both Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso. “Try and have someone ready to face Robby by then. You’d be surprised how fast the boy has flourished under a Sensei who doesn’t give up on him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I said, get the hell out!” yelled Sensei Lawrence. “Now!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The grim smile widened on the old man’s face, looking nothing more than amused by the way that riled up Sensei Lawrence. Sliding his sunglasses back on, Sensei Kreese turned around and sauntered out of the front lot. Tory and Kyler soon followed him. And with that, Cobra Kai was gone again, off to brumate until the Tournament if the students of Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang were lucky.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel didn’t believe in luck like that. Sensei Kreese showing up there had been a bold move on Cobra Kai’s part. There should have been more of a response than letting them go without making any sort of move to stop them. He turned to his Sensei. “You’re really just gonna let Kreese walk away again?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence gave him a long look. “Yeah,” he answered. And then he turned his attention to all the students in front of him, and his frown deepened into almost a scowl. “Alright, every single one of you listen up and you listen up good. This is the last time I’m gonna warn you guys: stay the hell away from the Cobras until the All-Valley! If I hear that any of you broke the truce, you’ll be sucking algae out of the koi pond by the time I’m through with you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the looks on the others’ faces, Miguel suspected they didn’t like this situation any more than he did. And when Sensei Lawrence walked past him to follow Mr. LaRusso into the dojo, Miguel tried voicing his concerns again. “Sensei, don’t you think maybe—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just trust me,” said Sensei Lawrence, not stopping until he and Mr. LaRusso were in the backyard again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Scratching the back of his neck, Miguel sighed. He didn’t understand. Why didn’t they take care of the matter now? Why still play this game? Why continue to take Kreese at his word when the old man had proven time and time again to be untrustworthy?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gripping the straps of his backpack tighter, Hawk trudged his way over to his motorcycle, prepared to zoom off as soon as he could get his helmet on. The entire day had sucked. Sensei Kreese showing up was just the shit icing on the shit cake. Hawk was ready to go home as quickly as the speed limit would allow him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His eyes were drawn to a piece of yellow paper someone had taped to the seat of his bike. He knew what it was before he even had to see the picture: the same cobra coiled around the same red-crested hawk, the same fangs extended and ready to eat it. The same threatening message written at the bottom:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>bye bye birdie</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk frowned, prepared to crumble it up like he had the previous one when he heard a voice at his side. “Let me guess, Cobra Kai’s calling card?” Demetri’s hand reached over and took the paper out of his hands. “Not a bad drawing, though, I’ll give them that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe Sensei Kreese put it there when they first showed up.” Now Miguel was there, too, on his other side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s not the first one,” explained Hawk. “Kyler put one in my locker a few weeks ago. So it was probably him again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel furrowed his brows. “Why didn’t you tell us?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk scoffed. “Because it’s Kyler. I’m not scared of him. I’m not scared of <em>any</em> of those guys left in Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Examining the drawing, Demetri pointed out, “Wasn’t Tory the one who told you to watch your back, though? She’d be the more likely candidate.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The LaRussos got her expelled from school, remember?” countered Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“She could’ve gotten Kyler to do it for her,” retorted Demetri. “C’mon, we all know Kyler, he’s not clever enough for something like this. Leaving threats around? Does that sound like his style to you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel gazed over at the dojo, wondering again why Sensei Lawrence hadn’t simply ended things then and there with Sensei Kreese. <em>Trust Sensei</em>, he reminded himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his shoulders, Hawk said, “Yeah, well, whoever’s leaving them, it just proves they’re too much of a pussy to confront me face-to-face. Because they know I can kick their ass. And that’s why I’m not worried about these stupid threats. They can keep ‘em coming all the way to the All-Valley. I’ll make sure they choke on ‘em then.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“I still think we should’ve gotten them helmets,” stated Mr. LaRusso, crossing his arms.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence scoffed. “What, you wanna have them play flag football instead? Some of that powderpuff pussy shit?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Quirking an eyebrow at him, Mr. LaRusso noted, “You sure this isn’t just about you still being upset about the Super Bowl?” When Sensei Lawrence glared at him peevishly in reply, he shrugged. “Hey, no, I’m with you there. My Rams really let me down this year.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You hate the Patriots, too?” asked Sensei Lawrence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso twisted his mouth, like that was the most absurd question ever uttered by another human being. “Outside of New England, who doesn’t?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch tackling Demetri to the ground drew their attention in front of them, where the football had flown out of Demetri’s arms and bounced over the field line. Sensei Lawrence blew the whistle hanging around his neck, picking up the ball and handing it to Sam when she came over to collect it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The idea had been Sensei Lawrence’s in the first place. A game of good, old-fashioned football in the park. A team-building exercise, he’d called it, since they had divided the groups into teams from mixed dojos. Miguel, Sam, Demetri, and Bert were part of one. The other included Hawk, Chris, Mitch, and Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The rules were simple. Whichever team scored the most points in an hour was the victor. Full-contact was allowed, with the students being told to use their judgment and keep it in the vein of good sportsmanship. The losing team would be spending the next day, their Saturday, waxing the cars at Miyagi-Do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what if there’s a tie?” Demetri had asked at the start.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence had laughed at that. “Then you<em> all</em> get to wax cars. And vacuum the insides, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All in all, it was certainly a way to start the first day of March.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam took the ball over to where her team had huddled together to discuss a plan. Miguel rested his hands on his knees and eyed his teammates, shaking his head at their recent blunder. “We need to get it together,” he told them. “We gotta come up with a better strategy. We can’t lose when it’s this close.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I’d prefer not to give up my Saturday morning to show up early for chores,” said Demetri. “It’s gonna cut into my <em>Crucible Control</em> time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert looked at Sam. “Why don’t you just throw the ball to Miguel when he’s open, Sam?” he asked. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he noted, “He’s been open, like, five times but you keep passing to Demetri and he couldn’t catch a cold. No offense, Demetri.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“None taken,” Demetri replied.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, I want to win as much as you guys do,” retorted Sam, crossing her arms. “Do you think <em>I </em>want to spend my Saturday morning waxing cars? Besides, Demetri’s faster than Miguel, I figured he could outrun Mitch and Chris. They’re the ones you gotta get around, in case you haven’t noticed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert didn’t look convinced. “Is this because you and Miguel broke up?” That earned him a backhanded slap across his shoulder from Miguel. “What? I’m just wondering.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel furrowed his eyebrows. Sam was undoubtedly going to handle the break up her own way and he had no control over that. But he also had no interest in losing the game because of it. So when the group broke after coming up with their next play, he lingered by Sam and told her, “Hey, I know you’re probably not thrilled about us being on the same team but let’s just get through this, and then we can go back to giving each other space. Deal?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s expression didn’t change, but after a beat, she nodded and muttered back, “Deal.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Demetri complained, “God, when I signed up for karate, I didn’t expect I’d be forced to play other sports, too. Especially football. I wasn’t made to be a jock. Now, maybe if I had Yasmine here cheering me on, that’d be different. You know she has a Lakers cheerleading costume, did I ever tell you that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri, I was there with you at our sophomore Halloween dance,” Miguel reminded him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s just concentrate on the game, you guys,” said Sam, her cheeks reddening. At first, Miguel thought it might’ve been from embarrassment for overhearing Demetri’s guy moment, until he remembered it probably reminded her of when Yasmine had put Aisha on blast to half their peers on Instagram at that dance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone got into place. Demetri rested his hand on the ball where it laid on the ground, staring in front of him at Chris. “Think you could cut me a little slack?” he joked. “Y’know, teammate to teammate?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris grinned back, shaking his head. “Sorry, Met, but for the next fifteen minutes, we aren’t teammates.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hike!” shouted Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri passed the football backward between his legs to Miguel before Chris slammed into him. Miguel darted around Hawk, who reached out to grab the ball from him. He bolted down the field, keeping an eye on his teammates where they got into the formations they’d agreed on, trying to lose Hawk from where he kept hot on his heels. Bert was straight ahead. Sam was keeping Nate at bay. He had a few seconds to run and slip the football to Bert in time before Hawk successfully grappled him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert ran as fast as he could, gripping the ball tight in his arms. He dashed yard after yard, giving his teammates time to get back on their feet and catch up. For a moment it looked like he might actually make it to the end zone on his own. But suddenly, Mitch jumped right in his path, and Bert couldn’t stop or turn in time before he crashed into him, sending the smaller boy flying to the ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Reaching down to pick up the ball, Mitch said, “Sorry, Bert. No hard feelings.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Still lying on his back, Bert shot him a thumb’s up. “It’s cool, I’m okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch had only a moment to savor his victory, however, because not a few seconds after obtaining the ball, Miguel tackled him, shoving him to the ground. Miguel grabbed the ball, shooting Mitch an ironic smile as he rolled over. “No hard feelings,” he repeated before dashing off to the end zone, scoring his team the touchdown.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence blew his whistle to announce, “Alright, that ties it up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While they all started walking back to center field, Hawk jutted his chin out at Miguel. “Hey, wanna add to the bet?” he asked. “Make it a little more interesting?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Loser buys the Powerades?” suggested Miguel with a grin. “Just like before?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And the next appetizer at Applebee’s,” added Hawk, smirking back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel extended his hand. “Deal.” They did a quick handshake and departed to their teams.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Hawk huddled alongside his group, Chris remarked, “Alright, we’re running low on time. We gotta make this next play really count.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think you and Mitch should just bulldoze everyone and clear a path for Hawk to run to the end zone,” suggested Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“They’re gonna be on me,” said Hawk, glancing over Mitch’s shoulder at Miguel’s team. It wasn’t much of a question. He was the fastest on the team. He’d scored the most goals. As much as he would have loved to score the winning touchdown, he had to think about the whole team, not only his ego. What mattered then was that they all won. Because otherwise, they would all lose. “But I got a plan."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The teams strategized and then broke from their huddles, all returning to take their positions. By this point, there wasn’t one of them who didn’t have their clothes stained by either grass or dirt. And they all glared at the opposing side as they got ready, letting the other team know by their eyes alone that they were going down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Nate wrapped his hand over the ball as he knelt behind it, Bert taunted him. “Be prepared to eat wax tomorrow, asshole.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate retorted, “I’ll wax you off the field right now, chode-face.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hike!” called out Chris, starting the last play, catching the ball from Nate. Shuffling back on his legs, his gaze immediately scanned the field to find Hawk to throw it to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as he was ready to call for Chris to pass him the ball, Hawk instead let out a grunt when Sam charged into him, knocking him to the ground. With him down, Chris cradled the football in his arms and started running down the field himself towards the end zone. Hawk grunted again when Sam made it a point to step on his chest to cross over him before darting down the field after Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“C’mon, Sam, let’s keep it sportsman-like,” called out Mr. LaRusso. Beside him, Sensei Lawrence only laughed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Picking himself up, Hawk narrowed his eyes but took off running to catch up. Nate had tackled Bert but Chris had no protection as Miguel closed in on him. The other boy never saw him coming when Miguel shoved into him, ripping the ball out of Chris’s arms before he fell down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel began his sprint across the field, nimbly dodging Mitch, who’d arrived too late to provide defense for his teammate. Chris had picked himself up and was coming right after him to reclaim the prize. But, glancing to his right, Miguel saw one of his teammates with a clear, wide open.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Pass it here!” Sam called out. “Hurry and pass it!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel threw the football to Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Only for Hawk to fly out of nowhere and intercept it. “Shit!” exclaimed Miguel, darting after Hawk as he raced down the field towards the other end zone. Hawk was fast. He closed the distance Miguel had gained for his team in no time. Gritting his teeth, Miguel picked up his speed, running as fast as he could to catch up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes focused ahead of him, looking for his teammate where he’d told him he’d need to be for the play to succeed. And he had a second to complete his throw before Miguel tackled him. The two of them hit the ground, Miguel pinning Hawk’s shoulders with his hands, straddling him with his weight. He looked up in time to see Nate successfully catch the ball. And in three quick strides, he was in the end zone, scoring the touchdown.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Beneath him, Miguel heard Hawk laugh. And he only laughed harder, along with the rest of his cheering team when the whistle blew and they all heard Sensei Lawrence announce, “Time’s up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Miguel looked down, Hawk was smirking up at him. “Looks like we won,” he boasted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking his head, Miguel could only chuckle, too. Rolling off, the both of them picked themselves back up to their feet. “Not a bad play,” said Miguel, dusting his pants off, giving an amused look over to where the rest of Hawk’s team had congregated around Nate, celebrating their victory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Hawk, man, where are you?” they heard Mitch call out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk hesitated for a few seconds, lingering by Miguel’s side. The expression on his face went neutral when he glanced at the members of Miyagi-Do who had made up his group, at the way Chris had pulled Mitch into a bro-hug, at the way Nate even seemed happy when Mitch ruffled his hair. “Go on,” Miguel encouraged him, patting him a couple of times on the back, smile widening. “Celebrate with your team. You helped them win.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk gave him a quick chin-jut before running over to join his teammates, meeting Mitch’s high-five and grinning when Chris clapped him warmly on his back. Miguel was pleasantly surprised to see Nate smile when Hawk wrapped his hands over his shoulders and squeezed them, praising him for scoring the winning touchdown.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And even though he’d lost, Miguel didn’t feel too letdown about knowing he’d have to be at the dojo early the next morning to wax some cars. Because wasn’t this what Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso wanted when they combined the dojos? Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do putting aside their differences, working together, celebrating together in a shared victory?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His elation was tempered, however, when he saw Sam from where she stood quietly on the sideline. He couldn’t place her expression as she stared at Chris and Nate while they continued celebrating with Hawk. Disappointment? Betrayal? Dejection? Miguel couldn’t tell. And before he could think about going over to ask her why she couldn’t be happy about this, too, she turned around and followed her father off the field.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel breathed in and out steadily, moving his arms in the fluid motions of one of the katas he’d come to memorize by that point. As his right arm came to tuck by his side, his hand balled into a fist. He narrowed his eyes and struck the punching back in front of him with zealous force. “Hyah!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got the sand-filled sack to swing. As did the next hit. And the kick that followed. Miguel focused on keeping his breathing steady, on coordinating his movements so that each strike he made counted. And with each punch, he thought about what Sensei Kreese had said in the lot:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Your champion is a washed-out has-been….</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Three months, Johnny. Try and have someone ready to face Robby by then….</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s fist hit the bag again and then he swung his body to deliver a hard kick following it, making the bag creak hard against its support stand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yo, Miguel! You out here, man?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing up straight and wiping the sweat from his forehead, Miguel called out, “I’m over here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arching an eyebrow, Hawk walked over to stand beside him. “Really? They got pizza and you’re brooding?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not brooding,” corrected Miguel. “I just wanted to clear my head for a little bit. Is that cool?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After the game at the park, Mr. LaRusso had said they had all earned a nice respite and so Sensei Lawrence suggested they pick up some pizzas on the way back to the Miyagi-Do dojo; on Mr. LaRusso’s credit card, of course. Miguel had stepped outside for some fresh air for a few minutes while everyone fought over the first slices. He wasn’t too worried that they’d polish off the pepperoni before he went back inside.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Clear what from it?” asked Hawk, eyeing the punching bag. He’d taken his feelings out on it plenty of times. He had a pretty decent idea of what things needed to be cleared out by punching something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was thinking about what Sensei Kreese said the other day,” explained Miguel, reaching out his hand to steady the swinging punching bag. “I think we should really start concentrating on making sure everybody here is ready to face Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shrugged. “I thought that’s what the Senseis have been doing. I mean, I don’t really get what Mr. LaRusso’s up to with some of his lessons, but clearly he hates Sensei Kreese, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. His chest ached with heaviness as he found himself admitting, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be ready to face Robby in May.” It felt like defeat, admitting that aloud. Or was it strength to admit his own limitations? Miguel didn’t know anymore. Things had become so muddled lately.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Of course you’re gonna be ready,” argued Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s be realistic,” Miguel retorted. “You know how they train in Cobra Kai. Robby made it to the finals the first time, back when it was Mr. LaRusso who trained him. We can’t underestimate him, Kreese is only going to make him stronger. And don’t get me wrong, I <em>want</em> to beat him. But we need to have a backup plan. We should get the others better prepared.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Even Miyagi-Do?” asked Hawk, skepticism tinged in his voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded. “Even Miyagi-Do.” He had a suspicion none of them would want to face their old friend at the All-Valley Tournament. But allegiances were shifted now. Previous enemies were allies and previous allies were now enemies. Miguel hated to think of it in those terms, but that was the reality. And if he had to live with the knowledge that one of them in Eagle Fang might have to fight Tory, then Miyagi-Do had to accept Robby wasn’t on their side anymore.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” agreed Hawk, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer to him. “Say what you need from me, man, and you got it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shifted the weight on his legs, and his eyes drifted over to the punching bag again. His hands curled into fists at his side. Realism aside, backup plan aside, he could not deny the spark inside himself that lit up with desire when he thought about it being him who might make Robby lose at the Tournament. He couldn’t deny how much he wanted it. Because how else was he supposed to get closure?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight me,” answered Miguel. “You think I’m gonna be ready, let’s find out. Tournament-style this time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyebrows raised on his forehead. “Like, right now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel answered his question by quickly getting back into fight formation. He gave Hawk a second to raise his own defense before pivoting on his foot and launching a kick at his face. Hawk ducked, shifting forward and countering with a punch aimed at Miguel’s exposed chest. Miguel shot his arm out to block before twisting around and delivering a hit with his other fist against Hawk’s jaw.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Stumbling back, Hawk caught his footing. Grazing his jaw with his fingers, he grinned. “Point, you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel smiled back and the two got into position again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk attacked, swinging his right arm forward. Miguel flipped his left arm over to shield his chest. He countered with his own right punch, only for Hawk to block and twist around, aiming a kick towards his torso. Miguel’s hands flew up to shield himself again, and then he pivoted, extending his left leg out at Hawk’s shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Hawk caught his leg in his hands and pulled, jerking Miguel off his balance. Miguel extended his arms to catch himself on the grass, to keep himself from completely falling over, only for Hawk’s fist to strike him in his ribs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point, me,” announced Hawk, letting Miguel go so he could stand up and resume formation. Hawk raised his fists in a defensive posture. “Next point decides. It’s gonna be great being a two-time winner today. Makes the victory pizza taste twice as good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head, smirking. “Always with the cockiness, huh? You gotta watch that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But he liked Hawk’s confidence in his skills at the moment. It fed into his own. Because when he started the next round, coming at Hawk with back-to-back punches, he felt more in tune with his movements than he could remember in months. He was reading his opponent accurately. Hawk favored high kicks, which Miguel dodged one after another when Hawk came at him with them, ducking under his leg when he twirled around to deliver another.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel lunged forward and aimed a high punch at Hawk’s face, which he blocked. Hawk brought his arm down to check Miguel’s immediate low hit from his other fist. Hawk grabbed that wrist and twisted, shifting his weight forward to throw Miguel off his legs and onto the ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before Hawk could drop and deliver his final blow, Miguel quickly wrapped his leg around Hawk’s calf and jerked it back, sending him falling to his back on the grass and releasing his hold on his arm. Rolling over, Miguel recovered first and struck Hawk in his gut.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point,” chuckled Miguel, standing on his feet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Staring up at him from on his back, Hawk let out a breathy, amused laugh, too. “And match.” He accepted Miguel’s extended hand and let him help pull him back on his legs. And once he was up, he clapped his other hand on top of Miguel’s. Staring at him, he said with a fierce intensity to his tone, “If you can beat me, you can beat Robby, no sweat. It’s like I told you before, between you and me, one of us is gonna take him down before he can get to the finals. Then it’ll just be us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel swallowed hard but nodded back. For the first time, he could fully picture the scenario in his head. At the All-Valley Tournament. Landing the point and knocking Robby out. Sensei Kreese’s plans would be ruined. Miguel’s heart thundered at the possible reality where he and Hawk could fight in the finals and secure a complete victory for Eagle Fang. He even imagined himself earning that second trophy. And with Cobra Kai gone, he’d go to that dojo and get his first one back, so he could display both on his shelf. He could see it so clearly now….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Hawk released his hand and turned around like he was about to head back inside, Miguel reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie. “Wait a sec,” he said, giving his sleeve a tug to encourage him to stay.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” said Hawk, “but if we stay out here much longer, Bert will probably have taken all the pepperoni.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel laughed under his breath again and released his sleeve. And after a few hesitant seconds, he brought his hand up to wrap it over Hawk’s shoulder. “I just wanted to say, thanks. I know you’ve been going through your own stuff, but I appreciate your help.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got a sincere, almost relieved, smile to brighten Hawk’s face. “Of course, always,” he said, drawing Miguel into a quick bro-hug.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they pulled back, Miguel kept his hand around Hawk’s shoulder, letting his eyes linger on his face. He still had no clue when Hawk’s feelings for him had morphed from friendliness to something more. But at that moment, Miguel thought over the last several months. About the time he’d been in the hospital and then stuck at home, about what Hawk had done in his name during that period. He’d never asked Hawk to get revenge on his behalf. He hadn’t wanted it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>This</em> was what he wanted. Them together at Eagle Fang. Like it was before. Helping each other be their best.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Miguel wondered again. He had told himself if it was real, it would come back later.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s lips parted as he tried to find some words. They weren’t jumping into his head that second. And some small part of him realized how awkward he must have been making things, standing there just staring at Hawk, keeping his hand warmly wrapped over his shoulder. Because how could he ask what he wanted to? How could he do what he wanted to right then?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk must have noticed. He didn’t leave, didn’t shrug off Miguel’s hand. He just stared back. And he’d parted his lips, too. “…Miguel?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wondered if he would be frustrated or upset. Hawk had already laid his feelings bare before, only for him to leave Hawk hanging and then tell him he’d prefer to keep things between them as they were. And yet here he was now, making things weird. Miguel was certain he could feel his heart thumping in his throat, but he managed to reply, “Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you sure, man?” asked Hawk, leaning in closer. Miguel could hear his breathing picking up. He felt one of Hawk’s hands around his waist now. His feelings were still there, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There were a lot of things Miguel wasn’t sure about anymore. Sometimes doing the right thing got you hurt. Sometimes trying to fix mistakes only made other things worse. But that seemed like it was an inescapable part of life. Things frequently weren’t black and white. That was what Sensei Lawrence was trying to teach him. And just because he wasn’t always sure about things, that didn’t mean he wanted to stop taking the chance that what he was doing was the right thing to do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Miguel muttered back, closing his eyes, along with the remaining gap, bringing their lips together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The first kiss was hesitant, timid even, words Miguel wouldn’t have chosen to describe either him or Hawk. And he had to wonder whether this was the first time Hawk had kissed another boy, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As for himself, when he broke the contact, Miguel could only focus on how warm his skin was, how much it tingled. It had felt good. He wanted another. He only hoped his palm wasn’t too sweaty when it ventured from Hawk’s shoulder over to cup his jaw, drawing him in for a second kiss, one Hawk returned with as much gusto as he put into it this time, open-mouthed and insistent. Now both of Hawk’s hands were around his waist, pulling him up against his body, encouraging his tenacity.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And when Miguel broke this one, he repeated his previous affirmation. “Yeah, I’m sure.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Good Guys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“There’s your appetizer,” said Miguel with a grin after the waiter brought him and Hawk their loaded nachos and drinks. He’d promised him one if Hawk’s team won the football game, now he’d fulfilled his end of the bargain. He’d get them their Powerades before the next practice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Reaching between them to grab a bite, Hawk returned his grin with an amused smile of his own and asked, “So, does this count as our first date?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I supposed it technically does,” answered Miguel with a little laugh. “Nothing more romantic than an Applebee’s, right?” They weren’t there for the sole purpose of eating their food and enjoying each other’s company, however. It also gave them a chance to figure out where to go from there. Coming out was a process, after all, and Miguel preferred they were both on the same page as to how they wanted to handle things. “So, how’d it go when you told your parents?” he asked, grabbing a nacho from the basket.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fine, I guess,” answered Hawk. Starring at the food, he admitted, “They’re mostly just happy I tell them anything anymore.” He didn’t need to go into detail with Miguel about how south his relationship with his parents had turned during the latter half of the previous year. “What about your mom and grandma?” he asked instead, taking a chip.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Swallowing his bite, letting Hawk’s vague statement about his parents go without further comment, Miguel explained, “It went well. I mean, they both knew I’ve been questioning, so they’re supportive.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nice. Wish you’d told me that back that evening in the park, though, about you questioning,” joked Hawk, flicking the empty chip at Miguel’s face. It would have saved him at least some of the debilitating self-doubt that had followed if he’d known for certain then that Miguel <em>wasn’t </em>tragically straight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel chuckled uneasily in his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “To be fair, you kinda blindsided me there,” he said before taking a sip of his pop. He still had many questions he would have liked to ask Hawk, about when those feelings for him had started to develop, about when he <em>knew</em>. But there would be plenty of time later to discuss those things when they were more familiar with this. Instead, stirring the straw in his drink, he asked, “So, when did you think we should tell Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heh, preferably never,” stated Hawk, without missing a beat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel let out another uneasy, breathy half-laugh, unable to tell by that look alone whether or not Hawk was being serious. He wasn’t interested in leaving the question vague between them, however. He needed at least some sort of answer. For him, telling Sensei Lawrence about this was almost as important as letting his mother and grandmother know. “For real, though. When should we?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk glanced down at his hands, tapping his fingertips against the table. His expression went neutral, as it frequently did whenever he wanted to hide whatever he was feeling. Miguel figured that didn’t bode well. “Sensei’s from another time,” said Hawk. “I mean, that’s cool for when he wants to introduce us to music and movies and shit, but for this? He won’t understand.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sure he will,” countered Miguel. Sensei might have needed it explained to him delicately, but he had always been there for him. Even at his darkest times, Sensei Lawrence had been by his side, no matter what. Miguel knew in his heart he wouldn’t take this badly. “It might take him a little bit of time to fully get it, but he’s up to learning new things.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bert told me Sensei doesn’t even think mongooses are real animals,” Hawk pointed out, making Miguel cringe across from him. “And you think he’d get something like this?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had to admit that was pretty bad. And Hawk didn’t even know about the time Sensei asked how long it would take for a Facebook message to send. He wasn’t about to tell him that. “Okay, but he does care about us,” he argued. “So even if he doesn’t completely understand right off the bat, he’ll try.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei’s already pissed off enough at me,” stated Hawk, rolling his shoulders back, crossing his arms over his chest. His face stiffened, jaw clenched, catching Miguel off-guard. Hawk was the one who’d led the students against Sensei Lawrence by siding with Sensei Kreese. Why was he, of all people, worried about what Sensei Lawrence would think? What was this, them dating, compared to everything that had happened before?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Furrowing his eyebrows, Miguel swallowed that mouthful of food down hard. “C’mon, man, that’s not fair. Sensei argued with Mr. LaRusso to let you in, that’s gotta say something, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watched while Hawk rested his chin in his palm, leaning forward and picking at the tabletop with a fingernail, avoiding his gaze now. Miguel sighed, recognizing a landmine when he saw one. He didn’t want to hide this from Sensei Lawrence, but if Hawk didn’t want to tell him, yet, he would respect that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, how about we wait a while with Sensei?” he suggested as a compromise. “We’ll tell the other guys at the dojo first and then later see how you feel about Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” Hawk agreed, reaching into the basket between them with the hand not resting his chin. “So, how’d you want to tell the others? I think we should just rip the bandaid off, maybe drop it in the group chat so they all know at once. Saves us time.” He then smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “Or we could wait until they catch us making out at the dojo?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel snorted. That sounded more like the Hawk he was familiar with, compared to the one who was timid with the idea of telling Sensei Lawrence. “Maybe we should tell them in person,” he said. “Less awkward that way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Cool,” said Hawk, stuffing another nacho in his mouth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And if we tell the other guys, it’s only a matter of time before Sam finds out,” Miguel pointed out before popping another nacho in his mouth. Technically, he supposed he didn’t owe her any sort of explanation. But then, he didn’t owe any of the guys that either and he planned on providing one anyway. It was only fair, he supposed, he did the same for Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s face had gone sour this time, and it probably wasn’t from the sour cream loaded on the nachos. “If she finds out, she finds out,” he said with a dismissive air, eating another tortilla chip.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll let her know,” Miguel insisted. “I mean, we’ll tell the others first, since that’ll be easier, and then I’ll have a one-on-one talk with her at school the next day or something. If that’s cool with you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shrugging his shoulders, Hawk responded, “If that’s what you want, dude.” He’d probably pushed his luck enough with regards to keeping Sensei Lawrence in the dark for now. He’d grant Miguel this one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t blind to the fact that neither Hawk nor Sam liked each other, but he had no desire for this change to worsen things between him and Sam personally. Perhaps it was naive thinking on his part, but Miguel held onto the hope that he and Sam might still maintain some sort of friendship through all of this, once the dust settled.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking a big gulp of his drink, Hawk wanted to tell Miguel that none of this was really Sam’s business. But given that they were all in the same dojo, he supposed it was going to become her business anyway, no matter what. She had a way of butting into Miguel’s love life, even when she’d ghosted him before. Tory could attest to that fact. He had no doubt she would have an opinion on the matter. He just hoped Miguel was prepared to deal with it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk watched as Miguel’s brows pinched together tight in concern, the way he suddenly jutted his chin up to direct Hawk’s attention behind him. When Hawk turned around, he narrowed his eyes at seeing the four boys being seated at a table at the end of their row in the Applebee’s.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug, Edwin, Mikey, and Big Red. Cobras traveling in their quiver. And when they noticed Hawk and Miguel watching, they jutted their chins out, too, in acknowledgment before laughing and opening their menus.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You wanna go take care of this right now?” asked Hawk, fists clenching on top of the table, leg starting to bounce under it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head, although his expression remained perturbed. “No. Sensei told us to stay away from the Cobras until the All-Valley. Unless they strike first, that’s what we gotta do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Huffing, Hawk turned back around in his seat to face him. “So we wait until they attack to do anything? We should be more proactive, send them a message. You don’t really think it’s a coincidence that they just happened to show up here, do you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t trust a coincidence like that, no,” answered Miguel. He had no ready explanation for their presence, however. And he didn’t want to start letting paranoia take control. “But ignore them. Remember what Sensei said. Trust him. This is how we do things at Eagle Fang now. And we can’t start a fight at Applebee’s anyway.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk tapped his knuckles against the table. He still didn’t completely get what Eagle Fang was supposed to be sometimes. Sensei Lawrence spent most of the time saying what it wasn’t; namely, it wasn’t Cobra Kai anymore. And as much as Hawk tried to keep up, tried to listen to whatever Sensei told him, more often than not, he looked to Miguel for guidance. If Miguel said to ignore them for now, that was what he would do, because it was Miguel he trusted. “Okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel volunteered them to accompany Mitch and Demetri in providing backup for Chris at Golf N’ Stuff that following Tuesday evening, so at least they would know. It seemed like a better idea to tell them in person than let Hawk drop it in the group chat as he’d initially proposed. So when Chris went on break and joined them at the table nearby his station, where they’d all been pouring over homework up to that point, Miguel and Hawk told them everything.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you guys are both bi?” asked Chris, leaning his elbows on the table, motioning between the two of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel answered, “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I’m leaning towards bi, yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s not gonna be a problem, is it?” asked Hawk defensively.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shook his head. “Definitely not from me. I’m pan, myself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyebrows shot up. “No way, really?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” said Chris. “I mean, I don’t advertise it or anything, but Mitch knows. So does Met here and the others at Miyagi-Do. So I guess most of you do now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel smiled. “That’s cool. It’s nice not being the only ones, then.” He actually felt a huge surge of relief hearing that. At least they weren’t alone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk jutted his chin out at Mitch across the table. “What about you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, I’m straight,” answered Mitch. “I mean, mostly straight. But yeah, if you and Miguel are going out, that’s cool in my book, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you gonna tell everyone else?” asked Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shrugged. “Uh, yeah. Soon. I guess we can let Bert and Nate know tomorrow at practice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris asked, “What about Sam?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m gonna tell her on my own tomorrow, too,” explained Miguel. Then, giving Demetri an exasperated glance from under a heavy brow, he asked, “Think you can keep this to yourself until then, Demetri?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri held up his hands. “I wouldn’t let something like this out. And in my defense, the only reason I told her about Tory is because <em>you</em> put me between a rock and a hard place, and I told you I didn’t appreciate it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rolled his eyes but nodded. “Alright.” He supposed he couldn’t hold that over Demetri’s head for too long. Demetri had only been looking out for his teammate and friend. And Miguel knew, deep down, he could have saved himself some heartache if he’d been upfront with Sam about his intentions with visiting Tory and inviting her to join Eagle Fang in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what about the Senseis?” asked Mitch. “ Do they know? Do we need to keep it on the down-low around them? I mean, so we’re all on the same page, I don’t wanna accidentally out you guys or anything.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“They don’t need to know right now,” answered Hawk, his voice dropping to a curt tone. “Just keep it about karate around them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris assured him, “I don’t know about Sensei Lawrence, but you guys don’t have to worry about Mr. LaRusso with something like this. He’s pretty understanding.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Miguel. Taking the segue to get the topic off their teachers, specifically Sensei Lawrence, he continued. “Speaking of karate, though, there’s something else we wanted to ask you guys. “Just how ready do you feel for the All-Valley Tournament?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch boasted, “Oh, we’re totes ready. The Eagles are gonna soar in and kick some major ass. Those chodes won’t know what hit ‘em.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel eyed the two members of Miyagi-Do at their table. “Demetri? Chris?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sorry, but my break’s over, I gotta get back to work,” said Chris, sliding his chair out and walking over to the nearby workstation, where he was in charge of exchanging tickets for prizes. Miguel made a face, but Chris was close enough to still hear them and could chime in if he so desired.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri spoke up. “Miguel, I know this is a bigger deal for you, trying to be a two-time champ and all, but I’m doing this so I have something impressive to put on my college resume. Besides, Mr. L said according to Mr. Miyagi, fighting for trophies is kinda gauche. I mean, he didn’t phrase it exactly that way, but you get my point. I don’t get why this Tournament has become all serious business.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On the other side of Hawk, Miguel’s mouth twitched.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Beside him, Hawk rolled his eyes. “You guys in Miyagi-Do are still too soft to take on Cobra Kai, it sounds like,” he muttered, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I figured after all this time, maybe you guys would’ve picked up a thing or two from Eagle Fang.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, softness isn’t the issue here,” argued Demetri. “Pit me up against any of those jerks and I’ll show them what defense-style karate is made of. And if I lose, I still got something nice to put on my resume.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you’re ready to face Robby?” challenged Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri bit his bottom lip. He rolled his pencil between his fingers and his eyes fell to the notebook laid out in front of him. “To be honest, we were kinda hoping not to have to fight him,” he admitted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s a tournament, genius,” pointed out Mitch, “you don’t get to decide that. I mean, unless you forfeit, I guess, but that’s a total pussy move.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s tone got snappish as he retorted, “Well, in Miyagi-Do we don’t take fighting our friends with as much glee as you guys did back when you were Cobras.” Sitting between him and Miguel, Hawk’s face pinched at that, but he swallowed whatever comment he was going to make about it. And Demetri continued. “So what about you guys? Miguel, you ready to fight Tory? Eli, what about you? She’s got a target on your back, you wanna deal with that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hearing Tory’s name made Miguel’s gut clench, but he said, “I don’t like the circumstances, but if we have to fight Tory to take down Cobra Kai, we’re all ready to do it. Can you guys in Miyagi-Do say the same about Robby?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Behind the station, Chris finally chimed in. “I didn’t get to know Robby for as long as Demetri here, or especially Sam,” he said. “And I still don’t know what happened with him at the school, why he did what he did. But when I first joined Miyagi-Do, he was pretty skeptical of me being there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, yeah,” intercut Demetri, “it’s because of what you did to me at the mall.” Hawk and Mitch shared a look from across the table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I <em>know</em>, Met,” said Chris, frustration clear in his tone, like Demetri had reminded him of that many times before. “Damn, man, can you let me have a moment?” When Demetri gestured for him to continue, indicating he wouldn’t interrupt this time, Chris went on. “Like I was saying, things were a little touch-and-go between those of us who left Cobra Kai and Robby. Like, even at the smallest hint of an argument between me and Demetri, he came in like, ‘once a Cobra Kai, always a Cobra Kai.’ So I gotta admit, I’m still pretty shocked he went full face-heel turn on us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri raised an eyebrow. “Full <em>what</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s pro-wrestling lingo,” said Hawk. “You’d know that if you came over to Mitch’s to watch it with us like I asked you to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Whatever,” replied Demetri, rolling his eyes. “But regardless, I’m still not enthused by the idea of fighting Robby at the Tournament. I don’t know why he suddenly decided to throw his hat in with Commando Psycho, either, but I know there’s gotta be more involved here than we’re probably aware of. Like, maybe something happened during his stint in juvie. Those places aren’t exactly paragons of rehabilitation.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel frowned. “It doesn’t really matter whether or not you’d be happy to fight him,” he explained, “or his reasons for joining Cobra Kai. The fact is, he’s there now and he’s going to be at the All-Valley. And between Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do, at least one of us has to face him, and I want to make sure we’re <em>all</em> ready for that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why Robby specifically?” asked Mitch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Because he’s the strongest fighter at Cobra Kai,” Miguel answered. That was the only reason, he told himself. His desire definitely wasn’t rooted in any sort of quest for revenge on his part, or any desire to chase any sort of closure he could get on the guy who’d put him in this position where he had to make sure someone else would be there to fight Robby in his place, just in case he wasn’t strong enough by May. Definitely not. “You heard Kreese, he’s training Robby to be his champion. He’s the one we need to focus on. Not Tory. Not Kyler. Robby.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, I hate to be that guy,” said Chris, leaning over the counter, “but you guys need to go either get some food or play a game or something, so they don’t think you’re loitering.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sardonically, Demetri replied, “Oh, you haven’t told your boss, ‘By the way, my friends need to keep me company during my shift because there’s a major karate war going on here in the Valley, led by a complete nutjob. Surprised you haven’t heard about it. Don’t you remember, they attacked me and my friends over in the laser tag area.’”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Clearing his throat, Mitch suggested, “Uh, how about a round of hotdogs?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Everyone cough up the dough and I’ll go get us some,” volunteered Hawk, collecting the crumbled bills his friends pulled out of their wallets.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll come with,” said Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them left, walking outside into the gameplay room and making their way over to the concessions area. Hawk mulled over what Miguel had told the others while they strolled in that direction. He was right that Sensei Kreese was training Robby to be the champion. The longer he thought about it, the more Hawk came to realize it couldn’t have been a coincidence that as soon as they released Robby from juvie, he showed up in Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Kreese had wanted Robby from the start. He was the champion Kreese had wanted to replace Miguel with all along. And Hawk mentally berated himself for being so stupid as to believe Kreese had ever wanted <em>him</em> to be his champion. More foolish still to have taken up the role with the enthusiasm that he had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, they might not be ready to fight Robby, yet,” observed Hawk, wrapping his arm over Miguel’s shoulders, “but at least they took the news of us well.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel returned the gesture, coiling his arm around Hawk’s lower back. “I knew they would. All of us might not always agree on things between our dojos, but they’re all good guys.” He shot Hawk a look, arching an eyebrow, waiting for him to give affirmation to that last statement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk thought again to a few months prior, to when they had all been his enemies. And his insides twisted in knots, knowing they had always been good guys; and he hadn’t been. How had he ever let himself get to the point where he’d so whole-heartedly believed otherwise? “Yeah. They’re good guys.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They got their food and returned to the others in about fifteen minutes. While Miguel dispensed the hotdogs to Demetri and Mitch, Hawk stepped over to the ticket counter, sliding one discreetly to Chris. “Figured maybe you’d want one, too,” he remarked. “These shitty half-time jobs won’t give you a lunch, so might as well eat on their dime.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, man,” chuckled Chris, taking a big bite out of the hotdog before hiding it under the counter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk lingered for a moment, leaning casually against the counter while Chris took the tickets from some kid who presented him with a mountain’s worth. For some time, he’d wondered why Chris had warmed up to him the fastest, out of all the members of Miyagi-Do besides Demetri, whom he had a shared history with. At least Chris and Mitch’s previous friendship explained their relatively quick repair, but why had Chris chosen to give him a shot, Hawk questioned, when Sam had not? Apart from some lingering mistrust, which Hawk would admit had been earned, Chris had given him the space to rehabilitate himself in the group. Now he figured he had a better clue about why.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After Chris gave the kid his prize, and after swallowing his lingering hesitation, Hawk asked him, “Hey, so how long did it take for the others to, y’know, be cool with the fact that you were a Cobra Kai?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, as you heard, Demetri still likes to remind me from time to time,” joked Chris dryly. “But things smoothed over between me and Nate and the others after Mr. LaRusso admitted he’d been Cobra Kai, too, at one point. Hell, now that Robby’s joined, pretty much everyone in Miyagi-Fang, or Eagle-Do, or whatever you wanna call our dojos, each of us has spent at least some time in Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Except Sam,” noted Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris nodded. “Yeah, except Sam. But for her, seeing all us work together to clean up the mess Cobra Kai made when they vandalized Miyagi-Do, that showed her we were the real deal. Just like she told us how Miguel returned Mr. LaRusso’s medal of honor, showing he’d changed, too. She knows Cobra Kai doesn’t poison someone forever.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s face went neutral, and he shifted the weight on his legs as he continued leaning against the counter. “Did any of you ever find out which guys from Cobra Kai vandalized the dojo?” he asked. “And who stole the medal?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris gave him a look. Hawk recognized that look. Chris could see right through him, even as he shook his head and said, “Nah. Never did. Nobody ever came forward about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes flitted over to the table for a second, first to Mitch, then to Miguel, before they fell to the ground at his feet. Rolling his shoulders, he said, “That must suck, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He heard Chris sigh under his breath. It sounded like a disappointed sigh. “Yeah, man. Sucks pretty bad.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The final bell rang, releasing Sam from her last-period English class. Scooping up her books, she made a beeline out the door and toward her locker. On her way there, Nathaniel waved her down when she passed him. “Hey Sam, after practice tomorrow, do you think I could get a ride to the mall?” he asked. “It’s my sisters’ birthday this Saturday, if I don’t get them something, my parents will lecture me about it until I graduate.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam grinned. “No problem. Bet it really eats a hole in your allowance to have triplet sisters all sharing a birthday, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“More than you’ll ever know,” replied Nate, sounding more beleaguered than his thirteen years should have made him. “But thanks! See you at the dojo later!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam waved and watched him race off down the hallway, turning the corner at the trophy case. Her smile dampened when Miguel turned that same corner, coming in her direction. Pivoting on her feet, she completed her trek to her locker, trying hard not to make it feel like a big deal when Miguel walked up to it. She continued pulling out the books she needed for that night’s homework assignments.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” greeted Miguel, shifting his backpack strap over his shoulder. She only returned the greeting with a glance from behind the locker door. So Miguel went on. “You got a sec to talk about something real quick?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If you make it fast,” replied Sam, jamming her History textbook into her bag.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know, I’ve been doing a lot of questioning lately, and I think I’m actually bi. Y’know, that I like girls <em>and</em> guys.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know what bi means,” snapped Sam. She then sighed, biting her bottom lip, ashamed of her own response. She tried softening her approach. This was obviously a big deal for Miguel to come to her with this and had probably taken a lot of courage to build up to. “Sorry,” she apologized, brushing some hair behind her ear. She even managed a smile for him. “That’s great to hear. Do the others know?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Most of them,” answered Miguel. “But for the moment, I’m holding off on telling Sensei Lawrence. And if you could keep this from your dad, too, just so I don’t have to worry about Sensei finding out through him, I’d appreciate it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam assured him, “Dad wouldn’t tell, even if he and Sensei Lawrence were having one of their arguments. You don’t have anything to worry about with him. But if you want to tell him yourself, I’ll keep it a secret.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel smiled back. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She thought that would be the end of it, but Miguel lingered by while she finished collecting the books she needed. And she doubted he was waiting to walk her to her car like he used to do when they were dating. “Is there something else?” she asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Actually, yeah,” Miguel answered with a nod. “The main reason I wanted to tell you this is because I’m seeing one of the guys from the dojo now. It’s Hawk. I thought you should hear it from me first instead of finding out later.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s hand froze on the door of her locker from where she was about to shut it. “<em>Hawk</em>?” she asked, eyes going wide with disbelief. When Miguel nodded again, the smile she’d conjured for him dissolved into a frown. Her mind raced with a thousand questions now, so fast it almost made her lightheaded. When had this started? Why Hawk, of all people? “Are you serious?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded a third time. “I know this is probably coming as a big shock.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam tried to keep her expression as neutral as she could but knew she was failing at that. Her hurt and anger and sadness, she could only imagine how visible it all must have been written across her face. So she made up for it by trying to get the edge on the situation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slamming her locker shut, Sam shook her head. “Not that big a shock, no,” she said. “Not really. I mean, you dated a girl like Tory. Seems like you got a type, regardless of gender. I guess I was the exception.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She knew it was mean, saying that. And a part of her hoped it hurt him. She didn’t care. She wasn’t about to confess to Miguel how she’d cried after their breakup. It hadn’t taken long for her parents to pick up on it. Her mother taking her on a girls’ day out for some pampering at the spa only helped so much, especially since Sam had spent most of the time trying to figure out where things had gone wrong between her and Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And her father, well, that would have been a disaster trying to explain the situation to him. So she barely did. All she’d told him was that things didn’t work out, that her and Miguel’s separation had ended in a mutual breakup. She kept the facts of it to herself. She didn’t tell her father about Miguel’s attempts to recruit Tory. If asked why, she wouldn’t have been able to answer. Maybe she was worried her father would take Miguel’s side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She could tell her words had an effect on Miguel, even as he tried masking it behind a calming breath. “I didn’t tell you this so we could argue over it,” he said to her softly. Where was this softness, she wondered, when she’d confronted him over his decision to invite Tory to Eagle Fang without telling her? “I just didn’t want you to be caught off-guard.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam pressed her mouth in a thin line for a moment. “Okay, well, you told me,” she snapped, throwing the straps of her bag over her shoulders. “Are you done?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s brown eyes widened at her curtness, and a twinge of guilt made Sam’s chest ache to see that hurt on his face now, before she told herself to ignore it. This was what she wanted. He hadn’t considered her feelings before hurting them, why should she spare his?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” answered Miguel, collecting himself. “I guess we’re done. See you at practice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She didn’t respond. Instead, she strode right past him and down the hallway. And to think, she really thought Miguel had changed, that he’d left that Cobra Kai loyalty behind him for good. But between trying to recruit Tory and now dating Hawk, Sam guessed Miguel would never let that part of him go.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once a Cobra Kai, always a Cobra Kai….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam stopped in her tracks for a second, biting her bottom lip again. Miguel had been on the path to changing. She’d seen it for herself. More than any of the others in Eagle Fang, Miguel had absorbed her dad’s lessons the most. She saw it reflected in his fighting style, the way he took to the katas, the way he carried himself. He’d been on the right path.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Turning around sharply, Sam changed her course. Each step she took, the hotter her blood boiled. She remembered back to that day when Hawk confronted her by the water cooler, when he’d accused her of playing with Miguel’s feelings. Now she wondered if the reason he’d all but demanded she make a clean break with him was so he could swoop in and make his own move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam found him at his opened locker, talking with Bert. Not letting the presence of the other student from Eagle Fang deter her, Sam marched up to Hawk and said, “So, was that your plan all along? Get me and Miguel to break up so you could get him for yourself?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert blinked up at his teammate. “Uh, Hawk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk narrowed his eyes at Sam but gestured with his thumb over his shoulder for Bert to go away. “Bert, get lost, I’ll catch you up at the dojo later. Let us talk for a bit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oookay,” said Bert uneasily, gripping the straps of his backpack before awkwardly slinking away from the two of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Turning his attention back to Sam, Hawk squared his shoulders back and remarked, “I guess you finished talking to Miguel, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam crossed her arms. “Why don’t you just answer my question?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk scoffed. “You’re something else. Are you gonna have a repeat performance of the drama from the last time you dumped him? You spent all that time ghosting him, making him feel like shit, and the minute he moved on and started dating Tory, you decided you didn’t like that. Why don’t you just admit you don’t like the idea of him moving on without you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The muscles in Sam’s shoulders tensed. Pursing her lips, she asked him point-blank, “Are you the one who suggested Miguel talk to Tory about joining the dojo?” She pushed aside the small voice reminding her that Demetri hadn’t once brought up Hawk’s name when he told her about that day they went to the sushi restaurant. She forgot about the previous arguments she and Miguel had had prior to their blowup, most of which had nothing to do with Hawk. She was desperate to blame someone for why things between them had fallen apart. And at that moment, the only thing jumping to the forefront of her mind was that everything between her and Miguel had been shaping up great before Hawk joined Eagle Fang.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk jutted out his chin. “No.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes. “You sure about that?” she pressed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his eyes, Hawk said, “Look, if it makes you feel good to cast me as the bad guy in your little fantasy, go for it.” Sam bristled, worried that he’d read her too well in that case, until she remembered that up until the end of December, he <em>was</em> the bad guy. And he’d given her no reason to believe he still wasn’t one, deep down. “But no, I didn’t tell Miguel to talk to Tory. But even then, I think he made the right choice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Of course you do,” said Sam. “I bet you’d love to get Tory into the dojo, along with the rest of the Cobras.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk scoffed again. “What’s<em> that </em>supposed to…?” He stopped and shook his head, a disbelieving smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. “Y’know what, forget it. Believe what you wanna believe, Princess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry, I will,” Sam promised, prickled by the use of his mocking nickname; he and Tory both loved calling her that. It was Hawk’s particular way of letting her know that he would never take her seriously, that he would never think about her feelings for anything, and that this was his way of putting her in her place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She didn’t care what Demetri and Miguel said, and she didn’t know why Chris and Nate had started lowering their guard around him. She didn’t trust Hawk and she never would. Why did that make her the unreasonable one? Hawk had spent months harassing her and her friends. He stole the charity money they’d raised for Miguel’s hospital bills. So what if he’d had the bare minimum human decency to make sure Miguel still received it? He’d beaten up Nate to do it in the first place.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam would never understand why Demetri had been the first and most insistent in Miyagi-Do to say they should give Hawk a chance. He’d gotten it the worst. Sam could still hear the crunch of a bone snapping in two when she least expected it. No amount of previous childhood friendship could make up for a betrayal like that, in her book.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Not to mention all the stuff Hawk had done to her, personally. His snide, catty comments, castigating her for having the audacity to visit Miguel in the hospital, as if that privilege had been his alone. Playing Counselor Blatt like a fiddle so only she and her friends got in trouble whenever he started it. And, worst of all, leading an invasion on her home, bringing Tory into the sanctity and safety of her house so she could try and finish what she’d started during the school fight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For that reason alone, Sam would never, <em>ever</em> trust him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, as fun as this is,” replied Hawk, tone thick with sarcasm as he closed his locker door and threw his backpack over his shoulders, “I gotta head home and get changed for practice. Don’t forget, Sensei Lawrence is taking our dojos on a mud run today, so you might wanna pick out an outfit you don’t mind getting dirty, Princess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I can handle mud just fine. <em>You’re </em>the one who doesn’t like getting his hair wet,” Sam snapped right back, checking his shoulder hard with her own as she brushed past him and walked away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They had stopped paying attention to whatever was streaming on the television in Hawk’s living room that Friday evening. They’d started giving each other attention, instead. Scooting closer to each other on the coach led to a hand on someone’s arm, which was responded to by another hand on the other’s knee. Hawk initiated the boldest move first, bringing his free hand up to cup Miguel’s jaw, inviting him for more. Miguel had accepted, tugging Hawk by his shirt closer to claim a kiss.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">One lead to another. And then another. The television became background noise to the sounds of their heightened breathing and the murmurs that started following. Most of it consisted of half-muttered names pressed against each other’s mouths between kisses. Until Hawk dropped a bombshell.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered before drawing out another kiss.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they broke, Miguel opened his eyes and studied Hawk’s face for a few long seconds. Part of him thought he should’ve made a joke about Hawk’s declaration, conjured up some innuendo and ask if he really meant <em>anything</em>. But Miguel had a suspicion that wasn’t what Hawk was referring to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just promise me no more revenge-quests on my behalf and, honestly, we’ll be good,” Miguel opted to say half-jokingly, licking his bottom lip in a nervous tic.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Hawk tried mustering a half-grin back, to take his comment in good humor. “Heh, yeah, I’ll try.” But his small smile fell after saying it, along with his eyes, and he removed his hands from where they’d been resting around Miguel’s sides.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was still an awkward topic to broach, both because it reminded Hawk of some of his worst mistakes, and it reminded Miguel that Hawk made a lot of those mistakes in his name, even though he’d never asked him to. Still, maybe it was best to air some of that out since he’d brought it up. It wasn’t like they were going to go back to making out anyway, now that he’d gone and killed the mood.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why did you ever feel like you had to do those things in the first place?” asked Miguel, shifting on the couch to face him. “I never asked you to do any of those things.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shrugged, looking uncomfortable with the question. “Sensei Kreese said Miyagi-Do deserved revenge for what they did. And I thought he was right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel raised an eyebrow. “Tory told me according to Kreese, when someone in the group gets hurt, you all get hurt. Is that right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” answered Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But, dude, for as long as you’ve known me now, did you really think I’d want you to go after the guys in Miyagi-Do?” asked Miguel, shaking his head in bafflement. “Sam, Demetri, any of them?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes darted, and he started fumbling with his fingers in his lap. “I dunno. I just…. When you were in the hospital, and I thought you were gonna…And even when you woke up and got your surgery and went home, I dunno, during all that time I kept thinking about what I should do. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. That wasn’t the Cobra Kai way, you know that better than anyone.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eyeing the way Hawk’s fidgeting started to worsen the more he went on, Miguel still asked, “And the only answer you could come up with was showing no mercy?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A distressed look came over Hawk’s face. “You followed Sensei Lawrence’s advice and look what happened. But then I listened to Sensei Kreese about showing no mercy, I broke Demetri’s arm and…. Dude, I’m so confused now. What’s the right answer? Mercy or no mercy?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A sinking sensation plummeted in Miguel’s stomach like a rock, recalling when he had first talked with Sensei Lawrence in the hospital after waking up. He remembered feeling so betrayed, so angry and hurt over being punished for doing what he’d been so sure was the right thing. But he couldn’t tell Hawk about that moment where even he questioned Sensei Lawrence’s teachings. Not only because he’d moved on and wasn’t mad at Sensei Lawrence anymore, but because Hawk was already having enough trouble learning to trust him as his Sensei again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m not sure there always is a right answer,” he admitted. “Or at least no hard and fast rules. I guess you just gotta take it on a case-by-case basis. Trust your gut, like Sensei has been teaching us to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think trusting my gut is the last thing you want me to do after everything that’s happened,” Hawk remarked darkly, narrowing his eyes and looking down at his lap. “Like, right now my gut’s telling me we shouldn’t even be playing by Kreese’s stupid rules and waiting until the Tournament to deal with him. We should be putting Cobra Kai down before they come to us. But I guess that’s the wrong answer, right? Because we don’t strike first anymore. We wait for the fight to come to us, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed. It wasn’t like he didn’t have his own misgivings about how the Senseis were handling the situation. It wasn’t like he even completely disagreed with Hawk on that subject. He would have preferred to act, too. But he insisted, “Just listen to Sensei.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk glanced up at him again. “I’ll listen to <em>you</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” said Miguel, the single word firm and blunt. “Learn to trust Sensei and then you’ll learn to trust yourself again. What, do you think I have <em>all</em> the answers?” He knew the other guys in Eagle Fang, including Hawk, looked to him for guidance, but that was a big burden to bear sometimes. He might’ve been the unspoken leader of their team, but that didn’t mean he never faltered, that sometimes he didn’t struggle with doing the right thing himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyebrows knitted to the bridge of his nose as he thought deeply on that for a minute. He clenched his hands into fists over his lap to stop his fidgeting. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” he finally admitted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Staring at Hawk with sympathy, Miguel wished he had better advice for him. He thought about talking to Sensei Lawrence on his behalf, to let him know Hawk was struggling for guidance. Sensei had been trying to prove that he could be a good teacher to all his students. This would be a good opportunity for the both of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What could he say at the moment, though? Especially when he really didn’t have all the answers? When he himself didn’t always know what to think? Or didn’t like what did cross his mind sometimes? If Hawk was trying to pick himself back up from being at his worst, Miguel wondered what would he think to learn about him at his?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Miguel, running a hand through his hair nervously, “but there were days when I wished I’d broken Robby’s arm.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stared at him. “Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Lest Hawk would take it the wrong way anyway, Miguel clarified, “I still think you were wrong to break Demetri’s arm. Like, <em>really</em> wrong. He had nothing to do with what happened. And even if he did, it wouldn’t have taken anything back.” Hawk’s eyes flitted down. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty by bringing it up. And I know you probably wouldn’t have gone through with it if Kreese hadn’t gotten in your head. I’m just trying to say, even though I can’t get behind what you did, I <em>get</em> it.” Miguel stopped, his mouth twisting in his own guilt, and his eyes squinted shut as piercing shame stabbed his insides.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel?” he heard Hawk murmur.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He gritted his teeth and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. He ran his hands through his hair again, then reached back to rub at the sore muscles at the nape of his neck, which did nothing to alleviate the cramping in his gut from the cauldron of tumultuous emotions boiling in there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“During some of the worst days,” Miguel explained, “when I didn’t even wanna get out of bed and into my wheelchair, I would lie there and think, what if I’d just gone through with it and snapped Robby’s arm in two when I had the chance? I would think, the most he would’ve had to put up with was a cast for a few weeks. I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore, all the pain meds, the physical therapy, Mom and Ya-Ya being worried sick over me, being forced to let them take care of me, everyone else getting to go on with their lives without me. During those times, I would’ve done <em>anything</em> for a do-over to make it all stop so I could have my old life back. It’s pretty fucked up, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It felt horrible admitting that. Sensei would be so disappointed in him. So would his mother and grandma. As would his friends in Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do. He was supposed to be better than that. Everyone looked to him to be better than that. He knew the difference between right and wrong, and he wanted to live his life acting on that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk continued staring at him throughout his whole confession, his eyes wide. First he looked determined, and Miguel had been worried he’d intercut and say that Miguel was right to have wished he’d broken Robby’s arm, that he would’ve volunteered that exact moment to go track Robby down and do it himself that night.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then his brows furrowed in concern the longer Miguel had talked. A crack manifested in his tough-as-nails mask. “When Demetri and I talked about…you know,” said Hawk, “I told him I wished I’d broken Robby’s arm instead of his. And a part of me still wishes I did, that I could have gotten to him first. I know it wouldn’t have made anything different, and Demetri says I shouldn’t have wanted to do it anyway, and he’s probably right. So I don’t know if that makes us terrible or not, but I….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He paused for a moment. A glaze had come over Hawk’s eyes. Miguel couldn’t remember the last time his friend had looked so openly, remarkably sad. Especially when Hawk admitted, “I wish I could have done more to actually help you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them stared at each other for a moment and a deep quiet came over them. Miguel didn’t know what else to say but, “Thanks.” And Hawk didn’t know how to reply after that. What more could they say on the subject? It felt taboo enough to admit to each other as much as they had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel didn’t feel so terrible now that he’d aired it out. He hoped Hawk didn’t feel so terrible, either. What was done was done. Both of them had long since made their choices and were still dealing with the consequences, but they had to move forward. They had a Tournament to win, a Valley to save from Sensei Kreese. They had to get stronger for that to become a reality.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ever since he’d learned to walk again, Miguel wanted to be strong for everyone. To prove to his family, his friends, and most of all to himself that he was back to normal. Truth was, even now, he still wasn’t certain if he’d ever be normal again, whether or not that was even possible. He wanted to believe it was. If he could chase that championship title, if he could beat Robby, then he <em>would</em> be normal, he’d convinced himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In the meantime, however, the facade of normalcy could be draining. The desire to be strong for his Sensei, his mother, his friends, and his pride was wearing him to his bones, and at this point, it had little to do with the physical side of things.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel let out a deep sigh, all but deflating with the release of his breath, letting his tense muscles finally relax. After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned back and rested his head against Hawk’s collarbone. When Hawk responded by wrapping his arm around his shoulders, inviting him closer, Miguel accepted. He curled in, coiling his arm across Hawk’s chest to embrace him back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Neither of them said anything for a while. Miguel thought maybe Hawk started concentrating on watching the television again. Either way, he was fine with the sudden quiet. It gave him time to simply relax, to unwind, to admit to himself he could show some vulnerability like this without it meaning he wasn’t strong.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk had told him he wished he could have done more to help him after his fall. Miguel would’ve taken something like this, being here with him and keeping him company, over Hawk exacting revenge, anytime.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a long silence, Hawk spoke up, asking, “It wasn’t all bad in Cobra Kai, was it? I mean, back the way it used to be?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” Miguel murmured back. “Not all of it was bad.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Incensed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Bert grunted when he fell flat on his back on the grass. He then sighed in frustration, accepting Hawk’s hand and letting him yank him up from the ground and on his feet. “I don’t think I’m gonna get this high kick down in time for the All-Valley,” he said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bullshit,” argued Hawk, watching Bert as he adjusted his glasses and got back in formation. “I know you’re not a quitter, right? When your opponent kicks your ass, you get up and dish it back. That’s why you’re Eagle Fang, you never stay down, no matter how many times you get tossed around. Now, why don’t you—oof!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert cut him off when he spun around, launching his leg up in a high kick, striking Hawk across the jaw with his sneaker, sending his teammate stumbling backward. Hawk stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before his mouth curled in a small smile. Finally, Bert had taken advantage of an opponent not paying attention and used the opportunity to his advantage to bite like an Eagle.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, I did it!” exclaimed Bert, a big grin lighting up his face, looking surprised by his own speed and skill.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smirked back, rubbing his jaw. “Hell yeah, you did!” he said, before abruptly spinning around and nailing Bert with a roundhouse kick of his own, sending the boy flying back to the ground with a yelp. “Now work on your follow-up defense,” he snickered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Still lying on his back, Bert raised him a thumb’s-up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone in the backyard stopped what they were doing when Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso came out of the house, each hauling a trash can full of what appeared to be random objects, which they dumped unceremoniously over the deck. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the junk selected: a cordless phone, a basketball, an empty soda bottle, a spatula, etc. All stuff Sensei Lawrence had found in a junkyard, most likely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam stepped out of the dojo, too, walking over to stand next to her father, holding a bo staff in her hands. Hawk recognized it as the one she’d used to fight Tory during the brawl at her house in December.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso turned to face the students. “Alright, now obviously the All-Valley does not allow the use of weapons in the Tournament,” he stated, “but we still felt it was necessary for all of you to get some hands-on training with some. Because, rest assured, Kreese’s Cobras have been.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence added, “And while nunchucks are badass and all, I - <em>we</em> thought it was more important you make use of what would more likely be available in your everyday surroundings. Y’know, like at your homes or alleyways or shit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do you expect us to get into random street fights in the alleyways, Sensei Lawrence?” asked Demetri from where he stood by Chris. “I thought home invasions were behind us now. You said the Cobras were supposed to leave us alone until the Tournament.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And they will so long as you guys stay away from them,” replied Sensei Lawrence. Gesturing to Demetri, he added, “And in your case, maybe don’t yap too much near them, either, we don’t want that to be taken as an act of aggression.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get started. Sam here will start you off.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri argued again, “Wait, Sam gets to go full Donatello with a bo staff, and we’re stuck fighting her off with a spatula? Do you <em>want </em>us to die?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The whole purpose is for you to make use of your surroundings when the enemy brings the fight to you, Demetri,” stressed Mr. LaRusso. “But we’ll be sticking to cross-dojo matches for now. We know you guys in Eagle Fang have strong offense, but let’s see if you can defend yourself against an armed opponent. Sensei Lawrence, if you would pick one of your students.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence glanced over the members of Eagle Fang to find an opponent for Sam, first lingering on Miguel. His mouth creased, his sight moving to Hawk, only to finally point at Mitch next to him and say, “Penis Breath, get up there and fight Miss LaRusso.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The boy took a couple of steps forward, only to suddenly stop in front of Sensei Lawrence. The corners of Mitch’s mouth screwed in uncertainty for a few seconds before he spoke up. “Sensei, could you maybe stop calling me that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk turned his eyes on Mitch. So did Chris, Miguel, and everyone else. Including Sensei Lawrence. “What was that?” he asked roughly. Across from him, Mr. LaRusso watched carefully, looking like he was going to intervene any moment if things started heating up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doubt came over Mitch’s face, and Hawk thought he might back down. But his friend squared his shoulders back and repeated, “I-I said, can you stop calling me Penis Breath?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone looked at Sensei Lawrence again for his response. A rush of anxiety flushed through Hawk, surprising him as his breath caught behind his throat. “So what do you think we should call you?” asked Sensei Lawrence, stepping closer to Mitch. The muscles in Hawk’s shoulders tensed, and now his breathing started picking up, knowing what was coming.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Sorry, speak up, Lip. Or is your tongue messed up, too?</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch was losing his resolve again under that intense stare from Sensei Lawrence. He first looked to Chris, then over to Hawk, then to Miguel, before finally meeting Sensei Lawrence’s eyes. He raised his head higher. “Uh, I dunno,” he muttered. Licking his bottom lip, he managed to find his firmer voice again, suggesting, “Maybe just my name for now? I mean, if that’s cool with you, Sensei.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s heart pounded in his ribcage, look at their Sensei again. This would be it now. The chewing out. The public humiliation. But then after that, Mitch would come out the other side stronger. Just like he did.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence glanced once over at Mr. LaRusso and held his gaze for a long moment before leveling his glare back down at Mitch. The corners of his mouth twitched, but then his frown seemed to soften the slightest. “Alright,” he said finally. “Until you prove yourself badass enough for a badass nickname, I guess we’ll call you….” He snapped his fingers a couple of times, like he was trying to jog his memory. “Uh, Mitch, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, and a relieved grin spread up his face. “Yeah!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, Mitch, stop stalling and get your ass up there,” said Sensei Lawrence, gesturing to the deck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Mitch made his way up to Sam, stopping only for a quick pat on the back from Chris, Hawk watched, wide-eyed. That was it? Really? That was all it was gonna take for Sensei to stop calling Mitch by his insulting nickname?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It wasn’t that he’d <em>wanted</em> Sensei Lawrence to humiliate Mitch in front of the class. And deep down he knew it was a good thing that Mitch finally took a stand. That was why he’d suggested it to him in the first place. But there was an alarm blaring in his head at that moment, telling him this wasn’t fair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Sam and Mitch started their match, a familiar rage began stirring inside Hawk. He clenched his jaw so tight he thought it might break from the pressure. His hands opened and closed into fists repeatedly down by his sides, and his nostrils flared from his quickening breaths.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel must have noticed. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, nudging him with his elbow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Managing a stiff shrug, Hawk told him, “Yeah. Just can’t wait to get up there and show ‘em how it’s really done.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He said that, but Hawk stayed near the back of the class throughout the rest of practice on purpose, blood boiling, not knowing what had triggered anger of this magnitude in him. <em>Get a grip</em>, he mentally berated himself. It didn’t help. He could barely keep his breathing under control, much less calm down. And so he could only spare enough forethought to be thankful he didn’t get a turn fighting that day. Who knew what he might have done to his opponent?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk knew exactly what he might have done.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He had to get it out of him. And as soon as practice ended, he couldn’t rush over to the punching bag fast enough. While Sensei Lawrence left with Miguel, Bert, and the other Eagles he usually gave a ride to, Hawk coiled the boxing wraps around his hands as fast as he could. He felt like he was going to combust. And even though Mr. LaRusso and some of the Miyagi-Dos were still around, cleaning up, he didn’t hesitate to start whaling into the bag.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He struck the punching bag, again and again and again, convinced he could expunge all the bad feelings from him if he hit it enough times. Just like when Sensei Kreese brought Kyler and Brucks into the Cobra Kai dojo. Yeah. That had felt great to take his bad feelings out on Brucks that day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hitting the sand-filled sack with his knuckles, Hawk could hear the pained grunts of his imaginary enemy. When his strikes got harder, sending the bag twisting wildly on its hook, Hawk didn’t let his enemy escape. He grabbed them, slamming his knee up savagely into their core over and over before punching them again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It didn’t matter who this enemy was. It could’ve been Brucks. It could’ve been Kyler. It could’ve been Robby. It could’ve been Sensei Lawrence. It could’ve been himself. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was hitting the enemy hard enough so they stayed down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The punching bag’s support line squeaked louder and louder with each aggressive hit Hawk leveled against the sack, until finally the hook unclasped, sending the punching bag falling off its beam. And as soon as his enemy hit the ground, Hawk could hear Sensei Kreese’s command in his ear. <em>Finish him.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was ready to drop to the ground and tear his enemy apart until a pair of hands wrapped themselves over his shoulders, pushing him away from the bag. Hawk shoved back and then struck forward with a quick one-two punch, but this new opponent was stronger, blocking his retaliatory hits. And when Hawk blinked the distorted blurriness from of his eyes, he recognized the face of the Miyagi-Do instructor.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Mr. LaRusso, expression mixed with concern and frustration, keeping him at arm’s length.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stood up straight, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his deep breaths. After a moment’s hesitation, he unclasped his fists and looked down at them. For a second, he thought his hands were covered in his enemy’s blood before he remembered the hand-wraps Mitch had given him were red in color.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso lowered his defenses next. “I think you’ve done enough punching for one day,” he said, voice laced with disappointment as he glanced down at the fallen punching bag. “Go for a walk or something and cool off.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t try. Pressing his mouth in a firm frown, he rushed over to grab his backpack and plodded away from the scene, passing by Sam where she’d been cleaning things up on the deck from practice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam looked visibly uncomfortable as she stood there gripping her bo staff tight in her hands. No matter how hard she was trying to hide it behind a stoic face, she was still staring at him like she was afraid he might go off the rails on any of them in a second. So Hawk ignored her, too, walking past her and heading toward the exit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri ran up to him. “Wait!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not now, Demetri!” snapped Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Demetri cut him off, blocking him from his path to the gate. “I don’t know what’s making you hulk out right now, but you’d probably be better off cooling down here than anywhere else. Look, we got a tranquil koi pond and everything. Or maybe some meditation exercises?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk scoffed. Demetri was only trying to help but he couldn’t stand having guilt poured on top of all the other overwhelming emotions was experiencing at that moment, which was inevitable the longer he hung around Demetri. It would be too much, it would send him over the edge again. He just needed to get out of there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri must have taken his seething silence as an invitation to continue. “Y’know, Mr. LaRusso keeps some of his bonsais here at the dojo. Y’know, his little trees. He said if we were ever feeling particularly incensed, we should trim them. I mean, I’m not exactly great at gardening, you know I don’t have a green thumb, but I could go ask Mr. L right now to get us a couple of bonsais—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pushed past him, yelling out as he exited the gate, “Fuck your pussy bonsais!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slipping on his red jacket, Miguel walked out of his bedroom the next morning and made his way to the dining area of the apartment. His Ya-Ya had laid out his lunch bag for him on the kitchen table, which he stuffed in his backpack. But his eyes were drawn to a bundle of flowers that had been laying next to his lunch. “Hey, who are these from?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder to the kitchen, where his mother was making her morning coffee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen set the carton of cream down by her mug and looked at where Miguel stood by the table. She pressed her lips together, hesitating before answering. “Your Sensei dropped them off this morning,” she said, pulling a spoon out from the utensil drawer.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei? Really?” Miguel’s eyes widened in surprise. He was even more shocked at the initial thrill rushing inside him as he tried piecing together what this gesture possibly meant. “What’s the occasion?” It wasn’t his mother’s birthday, so he couldn’t think of any other reason Sensei would bring her flowers, other than….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He heard the clinking of his mother stirring the cream in her coffee before she tossed the spoon in the sink and came over to stand beside him. “Sit down for a moment,” she said with an accompanying gesture, also taking a seat herself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Miguel did what she requested, his mother moved the flowers over to have a spot to set down her mug. “Is everything okay?” he asked. His mother didn’t exactly sound thrilled about receiving the flowers. She was carrying herself with a reserved air, like she did in the past whenever guys like Graham hadn’t treated her well. It tempered any initial excitement that had swelled inside Miguel. Something wasn’t right.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After taking a sip of her coffee, Carmen assured her son, “Everything’s fine. But a few months ago, your Sensei and I thought about pursuing a relationship with each other.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What? When?” Miguel asked, his heart jumping to this throat. How had he missed that?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“December,” answered Carmen, "not very long before you and your friends started your lessons at Mr. LaRusso’s dojo. Before that, your Sensei and I had already been on one date. But we…put everything on hold while you were recovering.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel scratched the back of his head, his eyebrows creasing deep while he racked his brain. “Wait, sorry, back up,” he said. “December? And you guys had already seen each other before that?” When his mother nodded, his face only pinched more. “I’m confused, I thought Sensei was trying to hook up, I mean get back together with his ex-girlfriend from high school. He was spending, like, weeks trying to reach out and reconnect with her on Facebook. I thought that was what he wanted, to get back together with her.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sitting across from him, Miguel watched his mother’s shoulders slump a little, even though she was trying to mask the expression on her face behind a smile; all it did was make it a sad smile. “I know,” she confirmed. “I learned the whole story after seeing a picture of them on his Facebook and asking him about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wait,” repeated Miguel. “That picture on his Facebook, of them together on their date at Golf N’ Stuff? He was getting together with you while he was also trying to get with his high school crush?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother managed half a nod, taking a quiet moment to drink some more of her coffee. It must have hurt too much to admit out loud to him. And suddenly, everything started to click for Miguel. Those times his mother had been morose around him and he hadn’t known why. Sensei Lawrence’s advice about ruining things with girls when you didn’t take their feelings into consideration. It was all connected.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His hands that had been resting on the table curled into fists, and his brows knitted together, drawing a deep crease between them. His Sensei had cheated on his mother? And he’d unknowingly contributed to that, thinking he was helping Sensei rekindle with his ex-girlfriend on Facebook? He’d given Sensei so many hints, so much advice, and it had all been used to hurt his mom?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A pang deep in his chest hit him with more force than any punch previously ever had. His stomach clenched. He felt like throwing up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m not telling you this to say you should be angry or upset with your Sensei,” his mother explained, probably reading his emotions clear on his face. “I’ve already told him how I feel, it’s in the past now, and I don’t want this to get in the way of your karate training. I know the upcoming Tournament means a lot to you. So keep focusing on your goal.” She smiled, reaching out her hand, helping uncurl one of his fists so she could wrap her fingers around his. “And I’ve already requested that day off, so I’ll be there to watch and cheer you on with your Ya-Ya.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He barely heard what she was saying, the blood was pounding in his ears so loud. But Miguel nodded anyway. “Yeah. That’s great,” he muttered, swallowing hard. He was light-headed now from the sudden swelling of emotions hitting him at once. And his chest wouldn’t stop hurting. “I-I gotta head out and catch the bus for school,” he mumbled, sliding his chair out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen nodded. “Of course. Have a good day, Miggy.” They both stood up from the table and Carmen reached down to kiss the top of his head before taking her mug into the living room to finish her coffee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sliding his backpack straps over his shoulders, Miguel mechanically took the steps out of his apartment and towards the end of the parking lot, over to his normal spot to wait for the school bus. His brain remained in its fog, lost in a sea of hurt, sadness, and anger as he tried sorting through all of it piece by piece in an effort to understand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s previous determination to have a talk with Sensei Lawrence about Hawk took a back seat to this betrayal. It plagued his mind the whole day, worming its way in and out of his brain off-and-on throughout his classes, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. He zoned out during all his lessons, he could barely keep up any conversation with his friends. All he could do was stew over the why’s and how’s for hours and hours, trying to make sense of it all. Why would Sensei do that? How could he?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Somehow Miguel managed to hold it together until it was time to leave for practice. So when Sensei Lawrence met him in the parking lot at their scheduled time, before they would start on their regular journey to pick up some of the others on their way to the dojo, Miguel was ready to confront the man himself and ask him those questions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He climbed into the passenger’s side of the Eagle van, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, buckling the seatbelt with far more force than was necessary to secure it. As soon as Sensei put the keys into the ignition and turned on the engine, Miguel bluntly stated, “I saw the flowers you bought Mom.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s hand stayed wrapped around the keys, like his fingers were frozen in place. “Oh yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing up at him, Miguel noted how Sensei Lawrence’s face had gone stoic. He had to know what Miguel meant. He had to know that now he knew. “Were you ever planning on telling me?” he asked, pausing for a moment to give Sensei a chance to confess. Surely, maybe, possibly things weren’t what they appeared to be. Perhaps there was a side to Sensei’s half of the story where it would all make sense and would show things weren’t near as bad as they appeared to be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What, about the flowers?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel frowned, a fresh surge of anger heating his skin. So Sensei was gonna be like that? “About you cheating on my mom!” he snapped.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence sighed. He turned the engine of the van back off, resting his hands now on the wheel. Turning to look at Miguel, he explained, “Okay, in my defense, how was I supposed to know Ali was gonna suggest a meetup the morning after your mom and I slept together?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You guys slept together?!” exclaimed Miguel, his eyes widening so far he thought they might pop out of his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence cringed, looking like he’d said too much. "You didn’t know about that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” said Sensei Lawrence, holding up one of his hands, “I know you’re probably a little pissed right now, but listen—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I just don’t understand,” confessed Miguel, cutting him off. So it was even worse than he’d been imagining. It was one thing if Sensei and his mom were dating and he’d cheated on her, that was bad enough, but they’d already gone all the way? “You wanted me to help you hook up with your high school crush and during all that time you were cheating on my mom?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking his head, Sensei Lawrence said, “Not during all of it, no. Ali wasn’t even in town until after your mom and I, well…. I’m just trying to say, it’s more complicated than it looks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s frown deepened even more, until it resembled more of a scowl. “Complicated? Sensei, it’s my mom! How could you do that to her? Do you know how many other guys have hurt her?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The corners of Sensei Lawrence’s mouth twitched. “Yeah….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And you still….” The frown on Miguel’s face morphed from an angry one to one tinged by sadness, even as his eyes remained incensed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence turned his face away, staring forward at the windshield. Defensively, he retorted, “Geez, you’re making it sound like I was having a fling with both of them at the same time. Ali actually put a stop to things before we even kissed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And that makes it okay?” Miguel challenged. “You were gonna kiss her, even after you and Mom….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, you’re one to talk,” argued Sensei Lawrence. “Aren’t you the one who cheated on your ex by kissing another chick?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s jaw went slack, his brain feeling like it had short-circuited there for a second. He was tempted to clean out his ears and make sure he had heard that correctly. Was Sensei really going there? Was Sensei really going to compare his teenage stupidity to his own emotional infidelity, despite the fact that he was fifty?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even Sensei Lawrence looked a little ashamed at saying it. But all he said next was, “We need to go pick up the others or we’re gonna be late for practice. You gonna be okay to hold this off and talk about it later?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel let out a deep, frustrated sigh, sinking into his seat and crossing his arms. Staring out the passenger window, he muttered, “Sure, whatever.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">It wasn’t until Thursday that Hawk figured he was level-headed enough to make amends with Demetri. He had considered FaceTiming him Wednesday night but decided his friend at least deserved an apology in person. So he tracked him down in the library during Study Hall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He had to wait a moment, however, when he found his friend in the Science Fiction section making out with his girlfriend. And while that may have been fun for Demetri, it wasn’t something Hawk was interested in watching. So he leaned against one of ends of the bookshelves, out of sight, sighing as he pulled his phone out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He got caught up on his Instagram feed. Chris had posted another compilation video of Sam knocking Mitch around with the bo staff, this time set to cartoon sound effects. Hawk caught the peeved look at the librarian when he laughed a little too loud at that. He then left a thumb’s-up emoji on Bert’s post showing him teaching his pet hamster Clarence II a new trick.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Yasmine stepped out of the row of books, almost walking past him without acknowledging his presence before she noticed he was standing there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You a big fan of Sci-Fi now, Yaz?” asked Hawk with a knowing smirk, eyeing the book in her hands, slipping his phone back in his pocket.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing down at the novel in her grip, a copy of <em>The Maze Runner</em>, Yasmine looked back up and softly scoffed at him, declaring defensively, “It’s for a book report, that’s all.” With that stated for the record, she walked off, making her way out of the library.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Demetri came out, Hawk jutted his chin, signaling for his attention. “Hey, man, I just wanted to say, sorry about losing my cool at the dojo the other day,” he apologized, trying to keep his tone at the level appropriate for the library.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri sighed. It sounded like a frustrated one. But he then followed up with a shrug. “Well, I guess it’s better now that you’re taking out your anger issues on the punching bag instead of on the rest of us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t have anger issues,” argued Hawk. He couldn’t help but cringe after saying it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri simply stared at him. “Sorry, you wanna try saying that again, with a straight face this time?” he remarked, every word dripping with sarcasm. “Or would you like for me to provide all the evidence to the contrary? Hmm, let’s see, there was attacking me at the mall, pouring beer on my head—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, so maybe sometimes I overreact to things,” Hawk conceded. He still couldn’t explain why Sensei Lawrence going easy on Mitch and agreeing to stop calling him Penis Breath had set him off so bad. It was like he’d been boiling up inside, and the pressure kept cooking until he exploded. The only other time he’d lost himself so completely like that was when he’d pummeled Brucks, breaking his jaw. It wasn’t exactly a fun feeling, going senseless with rage, not even knowing what drove him to it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, and frankly it’s been exhausting to deal with,” said Demetri, rubbing the back of his neck. “But look, I get it, I know it’s Cobra Kai that did this to you. And I know after enough time, things will be back to normal. Well, as normal as things can be with this dumb dojo war going on.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s brows knitted to the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean by <em>normal</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Y’know, the way things used to be for us before Cobra Kai came to the Valley,” Demetri clarified.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that what you really want?” asked Hawk, trying hard to keep his face neutral, to hide how that comment hit him. He supposed Demetri would see things as so clear-cut and simple, that things were, if not exactly great for them, at least fine before Cobra Kai came along and ruined it all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, yeah. Eli, this isn’t you,” argued Demetri, gesturing to Hawk’s whole person with a wave of his hand. “It’s never been you. I know you better than anybody. Or at least I used to. So maybe you can understand my confusion when one day you showed up with that big hair and even bigger attitude, and suddenly everything we used to like wasn’t cool anymore to you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk frowned. “You wouldn’t even give it a shot.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s not true,” said Demetri. “I gave your Cobra Kai cult a shot, twice actually. First I got thrown to the mats by Sensei Lawrence when I pointed out what a colossal asshole he was being; which he still is, might I add. Then I almost got my nose broken by the King of Assholes. And you didn’t even care.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I mean, you wouldn’t give <em>this</em> a shot,” Hawk retorted, gesturing to himself now as Demetri had. “You were just critical of everything, right from the start.” From his hair to his tattoo to his name, Demetri had had an opinion on everything he did to flip the script, and most of those opinions were unfavorable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s eyes fell to his shoes for a second, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I was being cautious,” he explained, glancing back up at Hawk. “And it turns out my caution was well warranted, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk wanted to say Demetri had the cause and effect confused. He wanted to remind him that he’d tried including Demetri in Cobra Kai, in his new life, only for Demetri to mock the very thing that had come to mean so much to him; while also riding on its coattails, without putting in any of the work he did to earn it. Even if he’d overreacted, couldn’t Demetri at least see where his hurt had originated?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But rather than say all that, Hawk instead sighed, packing it away. It was all in the past. And what did any of that hurt weigh against breaking his friend’s arm? Besides, he didn’t want to get into that argument right now. He’d come there to patch things up with Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Perhaps they’d been going about trying to repair things the wrong way. Hawk by trying to confront the problem head-on and retreating when things didn’t immediately feel normal, when he couldn’t fix things by force; Demetri by pretending the problem could be ignored if he maneuvered them back into their previous normal habits. But both of them must have known there was no going back to normal.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That didn’t have to be a bad thing, though, Hawk was beginning to think. Together, they could make a new normal. And maybe, despite all the terrible things that happened between them the previous year, it could be an even better normal.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After all, wasn’t Demetri pleased with how he’d progressed in Miyagi-Do under Mr. LaRusso’s care? Wasn’t he happy to hang around Sam and Chris and Nate? And he was dating Yasmine, somehow they were making it work, a relationship Demetri had spent years dreaming of. Would he really trade all that away to go back to the old normal? Hawk certainly had no interest in asking him to any more than he’d have been willing to give up what he had with his friends in Eagle Fang now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before Cobra Kai,” explained Hawk. “I mean, I want us to be okay and I’ll still be your binary brother, nothing can change that, but I like having other friends, too. Don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri thought about his question for a long minute. Then a small smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he answered, his smile widening. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What they had shared before was nice and nothing would ever replace it, but at some point, it had become too codependent. Coping through defeatism, Demetri had been willing to play the long game and wait until college or adulthood to get what he’d wanted from life. But Hawk had wanted more in the present. He’d wanted a life for himself outside of being the kid with the weird lip. He’d wanted a romantic relationship. He’d wanted <em>more friends</em>. And Cobra Kai had given him that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then, one by one everyone he’d come to care about from Cobra Kai had left or been kicked out. Aisha, Bert, Mitch, and finally Miguel. Sensei Kreese had tried turning him against his friends, and for too long Hawk had listened to him. And by the end of his stay in the dojo, all he’d had left was Tory. Hawk only wished she could understand what he’d come to learn: loyalty to the dojo wasn’t worth losing loyalty to one’s friends over.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When he’d first joined Eagle Fang, Hawk had been prepared to do the lone wolf thing if necessary. But for as rough as the previous few months had been, trying to repair everything he’d broken, Hawk couldn’t deny he enjoyed helping Bert and Mitch train to get stronger, not treating them like his lackeys anymore, but as actual friends; that he liked the fact that Chris and Nate were giving him a chance, and he’d gotten to the point where he hoped one day they might see him as a friend, too; and that he was happy being in all their companies.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d made so many terrible mistakes, but he wouldn’t trade things now to go back to the way they were before Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel and I are gonna hang out at Mitch’s tonight,” said Hawk. “Chris’ll be there, too, after he gets off work. You wanna come over since you’re backing up his shift anyway? We’re gonna watch some pay-per-view wrestling, but maybe you also could bring over some Balderdash or Trivial Pursuit or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri shrugged, then nodded. “Okay. I mean, I don’t think I’ll ever get into pro-wrestling, and I don’t even know how you can stand it. Doesn’t it remind you too much of Kyler and those asshole wrestling jocks from school?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nah, man, it’s totally different,” said Hawk. “I told you, these storylines are wild. It’s like straight out of a comic book movie or something. I mean, with fewer special effects obviously. But it’s got your heroes and your villains, all that shit. Just give it a try, you might like it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s smile widened a little. “Alright, alright. But I’m still gonna bring Balderdash, just in case.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s why I suggested it.” Hawk returned his grin and extended his hand. Demetri clapped it back, and Hawk pulled him in for a quick bro-hug.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While he followed Demetri out of the library, a vibration from Hawk’s pocket had him retrieving his cell. It was a text from Miguel: <em>hey u wanna hang out together this Sat?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smiled and texted back: <em>u bet ;) where at?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel replied: <em>u up for the snake?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A motorcycle ride was what Miguel needed to help clear his head. He envied Hawk that he had this means of escapism whenever he so chose to use it. But that Saturday, at least he could join him on the thrill ride up The Snake. The exhilaration of the trip fortified him as they came to a stop at the store near the top of the hill.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While they enjoyed their lunch on the bench overlooking the valleys below, making small talk as Hawk started going off about things at Miyagi-Do, Miguel continued sorting through his thoughts. He hadn’t told Hawk about his confrontation with Sensei Lawrence. He hadn’t brought it up to any of the guys. Where his mother was concerned, he couldn’t air something like that out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wondered if anyone had picked up on the coldness brewing between him and Sensei Lawrence that week. Their attempt to talk about it afterward had fizzled. Sensei was being distant. So all Miguel wanted to do for days after was stew over it, to try and wrap his head around how Sensei, the man he trusted like a father, could betray his mother like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed Hawk looking at him. Miguel guessed he had his worry stamped clear on his face. So he ate another handful of fries and when he finished swallowing, a smile crossed his mouth. “What?” he asked innocently.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yo, El Serpiente, you haven’t been listening to anything I said, have you?” laughed Hawk, snaking his arm over his shoulder. Peering over their bench towards the store at the end of the parking lot to make sure they had reasonable privacy, he joked, “I mean, if you wanna make out or something instead, just tell me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eh, maybe not at a biker bar,” quipped Miguel with a snort, but his cheeks burned after he said it. He knew he wouldn’t have had to worry about something like that while dating either Sam or Tory. It was taking some getting used to, knowing when and where they couldn’t do certain simple things, like kissing in public. And it shamed him, like he shouldn’t have cared about what strangers thought, that he should be stronger than that. But not everyone in the world was accepting as their peers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had too much on his plate at that moment to also have to be worried about random bikers catching him kissing his boyfriend. He wished he didn’t. He wished he could simply enjoy this for what it ultimately was: a date. He wished he didn’t have the weight on his shoulders he currently did, where the weight seemed to get heavier and heavier with each passing day. If he lived a normal life, where he didn’t have to worry about the future of the Valley on top of his Sensei cheating on his mom, he wouldn’t have that problem. Then he could dedicate his energy to this, to them, to the newness of it all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk retorted, “This isn’t a biker bar. I can take you to one of those if you want.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel chuckled. At least Hawk was in a good mood. He hoped he could catch his joviality. Maybe it would embolden him to make the choice that was weighing on his mind. “Nah, this place is fine. Sorry, go back to what you were saying before.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was saying, I’ve been talking with the Miyagi-Dos about when their dojo got vandalized last summer. Or, I guess when <em>I </em>vandalized it.,” said Hawk. Miguel furrowed his brows, wondering how he’d zoned completely out of that lead-up. What would make Hawk think back to that? “None of them know who did it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, I’d already told them I didn’t have anything to do with it a long time ago,” said Miguel. “Aisha and Tory cleared themselves, too. And that was the whole reason Chris and Nate and the others left to begin with. Not to make you feel like shit or anything, but I’m pretty sure the guys in Miyagi-Do can narrow it down. Is it bothering you now? Did somebody bring it up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No. No, it’s not bothering me at all,” said Hawk, shrugging, although the expression on his face didn’t match his words.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Thinking back to that summer, to that day when Mr. LaRusso stormed into the dojo demanding answers, Miguel remarked, “Well, since <em>you </em>brought it up, I still can’t believe you didn’t tell Sensei you did it, and you made all of us take that punishment.” He’d never done so many burpees in his life. He’d felt like he was gonna throw up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s cheeks flushed red, even as his expression went neutral. “Kreese told me not to tell. He said he’d handle it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Blinking in shock, Miguel shifted on the bench to face him. “Even back then, you trusted Kreese more than Sensei?” he asked. A pang hit his chest as soon as the words left his mouth, reminding him of what he’d learned about Sensei earlier that week. He tried swallowing that pain back down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei Lawrence punished us for just asking if Robby was his son, just because you saw a picture on his fridge,” said Hawk, his voice exasperated even as his eyes started darting, unable to keep focus now. “What do you think he would’ve done to me if I’d spoken up and told him I did it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to raise the counter-argument that Sensei Lawrence had explained everything about Robby afterward, about why he’d been upset and punished them, until he remembered Hawk wasn’t there that evening with them at the burger place. And he felt that stabbing pain on his insides again, pushing the horrible realization to the forefront of his mind: Sensei Lawrence had betrayed his trust, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So instead of defending Sensei, and refusing to give voice to his own misgivings about him to Hawk, Miguel asked him, “Did Kreese tell you to vandalize the dojo?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not really,” answered Hawk. “Not specifically. He just said to take the battle to them, to finish the fight. So I did…. But I mean, whatever, right? What’s done is done. Miyagi-Do already fixed the dojo and everything. And you gave them the medal back. Heh, and you already kicked my ass for it anyway, remember that? Or technically, you kicked my face.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heh, right,” answered Miguel, with an awkward half-laugh, leaning back in his previous position on the bench. He didn’t like thinking back to his behavior as Coyote Creek. He didn’t like remembering that even <em>he</em> had been susceptible to Sensei Kreese at one point, that he’d let that old man get in his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk added, “To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t tell them I’m the one who took the medal, after you took it back to them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shot him a look. “Bruh, I’m not a snitch.” He’d returned the medal. He’d cleared his own name and the honor of Cobra Kai; back when it had honor. Whether or not Hawk ever decided to take responsibility for it was up to him. “Are you thinking about telling Mr. LaRusso?” he pressed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah right, Mr. LaRusso would probably throw me out if I did,” answered Hawk, laughing under his breath, like he was masking his own unease at that possibility.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head. “C’mon, if he could overlook, y’know, the other things, I don’t think that would be any worse.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled again; it sounded self-deprecating to Miguel’s ears. “Yeah, it really is a list, isn’t it? Still, no need to shake the tree, right? Besides, me and the Miyagi-Dos have been chill lately. Well, except for Sam.” He paused for a moment, arching an eyebrow at Miguel. A crooked, cynical smile creased the corner of his mouth. “Heh, I know you want things to be cool between you two, but I don’t think she’s ever gonna like having me there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You could help things between you guys, you know,” Miguel pointed out. “You haven’t really been trying to patch things up with Sam at all. I mean, I see you trying to get along with Chris and Nate, and Demetri obviously, but when was the last time you did anything for Sam?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk got quiet for a few seconds. And judging by his furrowed eyebrows, he seemed to be thinking about that. “So what do you suggest?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Figure it out, man,” said Miguel. He smiled and nudged Hawk with his elbow. “You’ve done a pretty decent job so far with the others. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded. “I’d really appreciate it if you could at least try.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stared for a few lingering seconds before looking back down and grabbing his drink with his free hand. “Alright,” he muttered, taking a sip. He didn’t sound enthused, but all Miguel hoped for was that he and Sam could at least get to the point where they were acting civil with each other.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They fell silent for a while. Miguel went back to eating his fries, which had gotten cold during their conversation. He didn’t care, continuing to munch on them while he thought about what he should do next. Wait for Sensei Lawrence to approach him about what had happened, hope they could reach some sort of understanding? Maybe that was the logical thing to do, but Miguel let that thought blow past him. He’d deal with it later. He didn’t want to deal with it now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, he was sick and tired of being passive. He was tired of waiting around, waiting for the All-Valley Tournament before he could confront all his problems head on. He wanted to do something different, something bold, something for himself. He wanted to act.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The arm Hawk had wrapped over his shoulders drifted down to rub a hand in circles across his back, like a little massage. Hawk ended it with a few firm pats before drawing his hand away. Miguel gave him a playful look. “That actually felt pretty good. Wanna give another?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled but did what he requested. “I know that look. What are you thinking about?” he asked, studying Miguel’s face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He must have been looking determined. Hopeful. So Miguel pushed aside any reservations about what Sensei Lawrence would think about what he was about to say. He let loose the thought he’d been mulling over the past few days, letting it fall off his tongue with reckless abandon. “I think we should make a move on Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes widened in surprise, stopping his hand’s circling movements again. “What?” he asked, sounding genuinely caught off-guard by the suggestion. “What about trusting Sensei? And what about the truce?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I didn’t think you’d be the cautious one,” remarked Miguel with amusement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shook his head and grinned. Now he was excited, much more like the Hawk who was always up for doing something outrageous. “Hell no, I’m totally with you! Let’s do it! What’s your plan?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel raised an eyebrow, a sly gleam in his eyes. A tight-lipped smirk curled up the side of his face. “You still up for helping me get my trophy back?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. The Trophy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. It was the first time he’d seen the Cobra Kai dojo since Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso confronted Kreese there in December, when the three instructors agreed to the temporary truce. Despite knowing everything he did, despite how different the place was now to the place he remembered it being, a nostalgic ache pulled at Miguel to lay eyes on the dojo again that night. It reminded him of better times. It made his stomach hurt.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No time for that, though, he reminded himself. He didn’t have the luxury to get all wistful. They were here on a mission, <em>his</em> mission, and he had a responsibility to make sure they succeeded.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Here, Miguel, I brought the binoculars.” Bert pulled the pair out of his backpack and handed them over to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel accepted them. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why do you own binoculars?” inquired Nate from where he was standing beside Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert shrugged. “I like bird-watching,” he explained.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Pssh, yeah, right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zipping up his navy-blue jacket, Demetri said, “Allow me to state one more time for the record so we’re all aware that what we’re doing is about as dangerous as it gets.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk patted him on the shoulder. “And that’s what makes it so fun. Live a little.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, don’t be such a scaredy-cat, man,” agreed Mitch, throwing the hood of his sweatshirt over his curly hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri retorted, “Excuse you, I’m not scared, I’m being realistic. I’m ready to fight if I need to, but I’m also making sure we all understand the ramifications of what we’re about to do. You’d be nuts not to see how dangerous this is. We’re knee-deep in enemy territory. If something goes wrong, one of us could end up in the hospital again. Or maybe worse, depending on what Sensei Screw-Loose does to us. If that makes me the Debbie Downer to point that out, so be it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, Demetri, we’ll be fine,” he promised. He had no intention of any of his friends getting hurt because he had no intention of any of them getting caught. They weren’t there for a fight that night.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And if things go totally crazy, we’ll call my dad,” added Sam, tucking her braid into her cap.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a moment’s hesitation, Miguel agreed. “Yeah. Worst case scenario.” He seriously hoped things didn’t get to that point. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how that call and follow-up would go, how he could explain himself to either Mr. LaRusso or especially Sensei Lawrence and tell them why he decided to do this. They would probably think he’d lost his marbles or something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel wasn’t going to worry about them right now. His mind was on the mission: get his championship trophy out of the Cobra Kai dojo and back into his possession. He’d deal with the consequences later, whatever they were.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After he and Hawk had committed themselves to the idea back at The Snake, they had spent the next few days figuring out how they’d go about getting his trophy out of the Cobra Kai dojo. At first, the plan was abstract in their minds, a fragile construct of what-ifs. But they gradually worked it down more and more to a plan that could conceivably work, if everything went well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then came the question of who they should risk asking. Hawk was sure the two of them could have handled it alone if necessary, but Miguel preferred to have backup in case the worst should happen. Safety in numbers, after all. But no dropping the plan in the group chat, Miguel had insisted when Hawk suggested it. This was something they really needed to have a deeper talk with the others about if they hoped to get their assistance without risking the Senseis finding out. This was something that had to be done face-to-face. Miguel figured it was the only way some of them would understand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch and Bert were easy picks. They could trust their fellow Eagle Fangs. Both of them were more than happy to help Miguel retrieve his trophy because he was their friend and their leader. They both also had their own personal reasons for wanting to land a victory against Cobra Kai, since Kreese had kicked them out for being “weak” and “losers.” They figured sticking it to Kreese by helping break into his dojo was a nice bit of petty vengeance.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>Hey, let’s call it </em>Operation: Trophy Heist,” Mitch suggested when Hawk approached him about it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>For Clarence</em>,” Bert had said solemnly after they asked if he’d join them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As far as the Miyagi-Dos, it was Hawk who proposed recruiting Nate. “<em>Are you guys planning another </em>Operation: Assblast<em>?</em>” Nate had eagerly asked. While he was mildly disappointed to learn there would be no pouring laxatives into the Cobras’ drinks this time around, he was still eager to volunteer. “<em>Any victory against those dickheads sounds good to me.</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri and Chris had been more cautious. This was a big risk, after all, and went against direct orders from both Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence. Even when Miguel explained they’d be doing this at night when none of the students would be around to fight, that did little to lessen their concerns. But once they heard the Eagle Fangs and Nathaniel were going to go ahead with it no matter what, they agreed to have their backs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>Someone has to be the brains of this ill-advised operation</em>,” Demetri had commented.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>But Miguel and Hawk are the ones who came up with the plan</em>,” had been Chris’s comeback.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>Exactly</em>,” Demetri had responded. “<em>That’s why they’ll be needing me.</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam was the one who surprised Miguel the most. While he and Hawk had gone to the others, she was the one who actually approached him about it. “<em>I heard about your plan</em>,” she’d said earlier that day at school. “<em>I want in.</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had hardly known how to respond. He hadn’t broached the subject with her because he didn’t know if she would be up for helping him with something so personal after how messy their breakup had gone. He didn’t know how she found out. Demetri again, perhaps. “<em>You’re sure?</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>If my friends are going, so am I</em>,” Sam had said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had smiled; he had no clue whether she currently included him in the category of “friends” or not, but her presence was nevertheless appreciated. “<em>That’s great to hear. We’d love to have you with us.</em>”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That night, they all met at the agreed-upon destination according to the plan, at the parking lot across the street from the strip mall. Each of them showed up dressed in dark clothing, befitting Mitch’s description of the event as a heist. They really did look like they were about to get up to trouble.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Cobra Kai had started it, Miguel reminded himself. They had no business keeping his trophy after Eagle Fang split from the dojo. His plan to get it back was justified.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, you remember how I told you guys there was only one part of the plan I was still iffy on?” said Miguel as they all grouped up closer together. “If Kreese locks the door behind him when he leaves, we were worried about how much time it would take for us to jimmy the lock before he came back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not to mention adding breaking and entering to our list of charges if we got caught,” said Demetri, narrowing his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris pointed out, “If Kreese comes back before we’re out of the dojo, I think that’ll be the least of our worries, Met.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore,” said Hawk. “We brought a secret weapon.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Beside him, Bert stepped forward and pulled a little black bag out of his backpack, opening it to present a lock-picking kit to the group.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No way!” exclaimed Mitch. “You know how to pick locks?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m a man of many talents,” explained Bert.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk added, “And if that doesn’t work, I got a brick in my backpack. We’ll just chuck it through the window, grab the trophy, and run for it. Call it Plan B.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m starting to really regret agreeing to this plan,” Chris remarked dryly, raising a skeptical eyebrow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, at least I’m not throwing Bert through a window this time, right?” chuckled Hawk, trying to inject some humor into a moment that was risking getting too serious, as the reality of what they were about to set settled in for everyone. Mitch stifled a snort, but otherwise most of the others leveled wide-eyed stares of shock and disbelief at him. “What?” he asked. “Still too soon?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam didn’t laugh. “Why don’t you leave the jokes to the real comedians?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert shrugged. “I thought it was kinda funny.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing between Hawk and Sam, Miguel intervened. “Look, hopefully we won’t be throwing anything into any windows. We’ll try Plan A first. Now, let’s take our positions and get ready.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris and Nate remained in the parking lot across the street from the dojo. Miguel handed Nate the binoculars. “Let us know when Kreese is out of sight of the dojo,” he instructed. Turning to Demetri and Mitch, he told them, “Once Kreese leaves, you guys tail him. Be sure to keep a good distance back and make sure he doesn’t see you. Keep us updated on where he’s at.” He gestured to the phone in Mitch’s hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If he does see you, just run,” Sam told Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s the plan,” confirmed her teammate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch shifted on his legs. “And what should I do? I mean, Demetri’s quick on his feet but I’m not exactly a marathon runner.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If Kreese tries to fight you, bust the old man’s kneecap,” suggested Hawk. Nobody looked like they were going to argue with him over that suggestion, not even Sam. It may not have been very merciful, but neither was Kreese. Hawk figured if ever there was a time to show no mercy, it was against the most ruthless Cobra of them all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They would stay in communication with each other. Sam wore the AirPods connecting Chris’s call to her cell. Hawk wore the ones on the call to Mitch. And with their lines opened, Miguel, Hawk, Sam, and Bert broke from the group and made their way across the street.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They hid on the other side of Nestor’s convenience store at the end of the strip mall, against the brick wall. If they needed to duck behind a dumpster, there was one available. But for the time being, they crouched and waited.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Chris says Nate sees Kreese inside the dojo,” said Sam in a low voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded. “Now we just wait until he leaves.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>If</em> he leaves,” Sam pointed out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He will,” argued Hawk. “He’s gotta get dinner sometime.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded again, but stayed quiet. He didn’t want to acknowledge his own misgivings. There were still plenty of ways this plan could go wrong. What if Kreese didn’t leave the dojo and they were out there all night for nothing? What if Kreese only stepped next door to Nestor’s and came back in five minutes, seeing all of them? What if Kreese spotted Demetri and Mitch when they tailed him and the others couldn’t get to them in time to help?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Time started to drag as they continued sitting there in the dark. Periodic glances at his phone had Miguel watching helplessly as fifteen, thirty, and finally forty-five minutes ticked away. They were all starting to get antsy now. Hawk was fidgeting badly. Sam had sighed countless times. Bert tried distracting all of them with new pictures of Clarence II but it couldn’t make up for the fact that they were inching on an hour gone by with still no progress.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They all collectively jumped at the faint sound of bells ringing in the air. Suddenly, Sam was pressing the AirPod closer to her ear. “According to Chris, Nate says Kreese has stepped outside and is locking the door. He turned off the lights in the dojo, so it sounds like he’s stepping out for a while.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pulled out his phone. “Mitch, you guys see Kreese where you’re at?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yep,” he heard Mitch answer in his ear. “He’s heading down the sidewalk now, away from you guys. We’re gonna follow.” Hawk peeked over the corner and watched as the distant forms of Demetri and Mitch left their spots from across the street and started walking.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam patted Miguel’s shoulder and said, “Chris said we’re good, Kreese is out of sight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, let’s go,” said Miguel, gesturing for them to move forward.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The four of them rushed from around the corner of the building, darting quickly across the parking lot to avoid drawing attention to themselves from the other businesses as best they could. There would be no avoiding the porch light in front of the Cobra Kai doors, however. Not much of a way to avoid looking suspicious when it was obvious they were about to break and enter into a building, but there was no getting around it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay, do your magic, Bert,” said Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert got to it, crouching down and pulling out the lock-picking tools. The next couple of minutes were agonizing. Miguel was painfully aware of how much they stood out. They were like sitting ducks. He almost regretted his decision to do this. What if Kreese came back. Shit, what if someone called the cops about four kids breaking into a business? The chances of that happening in this area of Reseda were slim, but the thought hadn’t completely left his mind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can’t you pick it any faster?” urged Sam, twisting her fingers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert bit his bottom lip, pausing to push his glasses up from where they slipped down his nose due to the nervous sweat beginning to drip down his face. “This isn’t as easy as it looks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Bert went back to picking at the lock with vigor, his elbow hit the door. Miguel squinted his eyes at it, at the way it swung a little at the impact. “Wait a minute,” he said. Reaching to grab the handle, he pulled. The door came with it, along with the clinging of the bells. It was already unlocked. “Bert, did you get it done faster than you thought?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert shook his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk knitted his brows together deep. “Think Kreese forgot to lock it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Chris said Nate saw him lock it,” retorted Sam. She shook her head, wrapping her hands over her elbows before shooting a hard, suspicious glare at Hawk. “I got a bad feeling about this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s resolve didn’t break. Nothing that could happen that night would break it. He’d come too far now. “Hawk, check on Demetri and Mitch?” he asked. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pulled his phone out again. “Mitch, what’s the status?” Miguel, Sam, and Bert stood there for a few seconds, waiting for the answer. “They said Kreese is heading towards some diner a few blocks over.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Then maybe Nate was wrong, maybe Kreese did forget to lock it behind him,” suggested Miguel. “Let’s just go in while we can. Bert, wait here to keep an eye out for Demetri and Mitch if they come back this way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert gave a little salute. “You bet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking one more steady breath, Miguel opened the door fully, hearing a louder bell-jingle as he did so. No going back now. This was it. So he, Sam, and Hawk all stepped inside Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They crept in, taking careful steps at first while their eyes swept the inside of the dojo. Sam started for a moment when she thought she spotted Kreese standing right there by the wall on her right-hand side, until she realized it was nothing more than a cutout. Hawk’s sight was drawn to the little heat lamp on the table housing the cobra he’d helped steal from the zoo for Kreese. Other than the snake, the dojo looked empty.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A wave of emotion swelled inside Miguel. This was the first time he’d actually stepped inside Cobra Kai since before his fall. He wished he could have said it was like coming home, but it wasn’t. Even as empty as it was right now, the very atmosphere was different from he remembered. He couldn’t spend much time ruminating over that, however. And he wasn’t interested in a cutout or a cobra. “Where’s it at?” he asked, turning to Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A quick glance over to the space on their left, in front of the big window, verified Sensei Kreese hadn’t moved any of the trophies from where he’d had them on display when Hawk was still in his classes. “There,” he answered, pointing to the shelf on the wall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You guys looking for something?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They all turned to the sound of the sudden voice that came out of the dark, and their eyes widened at what they saw. Standing there in the hallway, backlit only by the pale green light leaking from the back room of the dojo, was Robby Keene.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was still dressed in the traditional Cobra Kai white practice gi, like he’d been doing some late-night training. Probably with Sensei Kreese before the old man had stepped out. He stared at the three of them, face expressionless but arms crossed. He didn’t look as surprised to see them as they did him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as his eyes set sight on Robby, Miguel felt a familiar phantom chill slither up his spine, and his knees went wobbly. Clenching his fists by his sides so he could force himself to ignore it, he recovered, squaring back his shoulders, telling Robby with firm determination, “Yeah. My championship trophy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Putting a hand on Miguel’s tense shoulder, Hawk said, “Let’s just hurry up and grab it and get outta here before Kreese gets back. Forget Keene for now. If he tries to stop us, we’ll kick his ass.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei Kreese already knows you’re here,” stated Robby, seemingly unbothered by his threat. “We’ve known for a while, in fact, as soon as you guys arrived across the street.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel immediately got into a fighting position, raising his fists. But Sam was the one who asked, “How did you know that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Why would I tell <em>you</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s features twisted like she’d been pricked by a needle, looking particularly hurt by his response. Miguel figured it was truly sinking in for her, maybe for the first time, that Robby was now an enemy she needed to be prepared to face if things came to blows. Robby made no move on her, though. He made no move on any of them. He simply stood there just outside the hallway, watching them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As for himself, Miguel remembered when Robby attacked him at the school after he released his arm and dropped his guard. He recalled that night in Miyagi-Do, when Robby came after him, almost immediately after getting out of juvie. He waited for his opponent to strike first. Miguel would be ready this time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After giving one more look to Miguel, assessing that he was going to handle the situation just fine, Hawk pulled his cell out of his pocket. “Yo, Demetri, Mitch, you guys okay?” If this was a setup, he worried what that might mean for the two they sent to keep an eye on Kreese’s whereabouts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, dude,” answered Mitch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri piped in, having probably grabbed the phone from Mitch, “Kreese is still at the diner. Apparently, the King of Assholes likes pastrami sandwiches. Everything good with you guys?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We’re okay,” said Hawk. “I’ll explain later, but start heading back over to Chris and Nate when you can.” Putting his phone away, Hawk jutted his chin out at the others. “That explains the door. Kreese left it unlocked on purpose. He was baiting us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Outsmarted by Kreese. But how, both Miguel and Hawk wondered? How did Kreese and Robby know when they’d arrived in the parking lot? And what was their game?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Take the trophy, I won’t stop you,” said Robby, rolling his shoulders. “What do I care about a cheater’s award? But if you do take it, be sure to tell my dad and Mr. LaRusso that the truce between our dojos ends right here, right now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw. So Robby was going to put that burden on him? Make him come across as the one prepared to end the peace? Even though it was <em>his</em> trophy? It made his skin burn, the sheer audacity of it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was beginning to feel the surge of adrenaline that came before a fight. And Miguel could only wonder again, for the dozenth time since his rival had been released from juvie: did Robby feel even a shred of guilt for what he’d done to him? Any at all?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam shook her head. “It doesn’t have to end, Robby,” she implored to him. “You have a choice, you <em>always</em> have a choice. Miguel’s trophy doesn’t belong to anyone at Cobra Kai.” Robby stared at her again but said nothing, waiting for Miguel’s response. Miguel didn’t know if Sam was speaking for his benefit or as an attempt to reach Robby; maybe both.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Either way, Miguel knew he didn’t have much time to think. He had to stick to the plan. Hawk was right, he couldn’t waste time on Robby right now. The more time he wasted, the greater the chances that Kreese would return. Then they’d all be in trouble.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wrenching his eyes off Robby, Miguel rushed over to the area Hawk had pointed him to. And there it was, on display with the rest of the awards: his championship trophy. As he took it in his grip, feeling the cool wooden columns against his sweaty palms, Miguel wished he had a moment to appreciate it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Instead, he hurried to put it inside his backpack. There’d be time for that later. “Hawk, Sam, let’s go!” he called out, walking back around and motioning toward the door. If Robby had been trying to bait him into a fight, he’d have to wait until the Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam hesitated. “Robby, I.…”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby’s mouth twitched, but he otherwise showed no emotion on his face. “You heard your boyfriend. You should go.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam opened her mouth again as if to raise an objection, and Miguel figured she was going to let it out then and there that he was no longer her boyfriend. But then she closed her mouth, and even with that lingering sad expression in her eyes, Sam let out a frustrated sigh and turned to go. Miguel guessed she knew there simply wasn’t enough time right now to get into that history. He let her step outside first, and after verifying Hawk was following behind him, he left next.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk paused when he passed by the cutout of Kreese. Giving a look over his shoulder to Robby, Hawk grabbed the cutout, bending it in half over his knee to make it easier to throw into his backpack. He and Robby exchanged one more glance before Robby turned, making his way to the back of the dojo without putting up a fight or even raising an objection over it. Only then did Hawk follow Miguel and Sam out, where Bert was still waiting for them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam, you and Bert run across the street and tell everyone to start leaving,” instructed Miguel, adjusting his backpack straps over his shoulders. “And tell them to drop a message in the group chat when they make it home to let everyone know they’re okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her gaze still lingered on the door behind Miguel, no doubt still thinking about Robby. She looked like she wanted to run back inside and say so many things. But Sam refocused and nodded. “Right,” she said. “And Miguel? I’m glad you got your trophy back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even though she hadn’t smiled when she said it, Miguel gave her one back. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s eyes drifted from Miguel to Hawk for a second before she turned around and booked it with Bert across the the parking lot and then the street.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk then clapped his hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Hey, you ready to get on the bike and get outta here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel didn’t answer. He instead turned around and stared at the dojo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Cobra Kai dojo. The dojo he helped Sensei Lawrence build. He’d wired the electricity, cleaned the toilet, washed the windows, cleaned the mats more times than he could count. It was where he’d found his inner strength, the courage that had allowed him to stand up against the likes of Kyler, the fortitude that let him earn his title as the All-Valley champ. It was where he’d made so many friends. Now it was unrecognizable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kreese had poisoned it like the vile old serpent he was. Kreese had poisoned his friends, poisoned what Cobra Kai could have been under Sensei Lawrence’s guidance, poisoned something that had come to mean so much to Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hawk, give me the brick,” Miguel said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk didn’t inquire why. Maybe he saw the same necessity Miguel did. Maybe that was why he’d taken the cutout. He retrieved the red slab from his backpack and placed it in Miguel’s open hand, no questions asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks.” Miguel felt the firm block in his hand, appreciating its weight and heftiness. And he wished upon all wishes that Sensei Lawrence had listened to him when he raised his suspicions about Kreese, he wished that Sensei had never let Kreese into the dojo at all. How different might everything have been if the old man had never walked through the doors that day? There would have been no dojo war….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel threw the brick. When it struck the window, the glass shattered into countless tiny pieces.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk drove them back to Reseda Heights. While they hopped off the bike and pulled off their helmets, Miguel was glad to see Sensei Lawrence’s Eagle Van wasn’t in the parking lot. Maybe one day he’d hear out about what happened that night. No, not one day, Miguel reminded himself, gripping the straps of his backpack. More like the next day, in all likelihood. Maybe the secret would last until the end of the week if they were lucky.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They were in countdown mode now. The guillotine was hanging over their heads. Kreese knew they’d been there. And Miguel had left a final calling card letting him know what he thought of the whole situation. Soon Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso would both find out, and Miguel expected they were all going to get the ass-chewing of the century. He’d have to explain it had been his plan. He was the leader of <em>Operation: Trophy Heist, </em>the Senseis should go easy on the others. He’d take his licks.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But for now, though, he just smiled at Hawk. “Why’d you bring that thing back with you?” asked Miguel with a breathy laugh, gesturing to the bent cutout of Kreese protruding from Hawk’s backpack.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smirked. “For this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel followed him over to the trash area. He watched Hawk as he opened the lid to the recycle bin and emptied it of the few plastic bottles currently in there before he removed Kreese’s cutout from his backpack and stuffed it into the bin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before Miguel could remark that Hawk had gone a roundabout way to toss out some trash, when they could’ve chucked it into the dumpster outside Cobra Kai, Hawk grabbed a lighter from his bag. With a flicker and a spark, he lit the cardboard on fire.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk flipped both his fingers at the cutout as the flames started consuming the image of the old King Cobra, of the man who’d led him so astray. “Eat shit, Sensei,” he muttered. Maybe he’d never get Kreese entirely out of his head, but this little victory felt good. As did the pat on the back Miguel gave him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the cutout continued to blaze, Miguel slipped off his own backpack and pulled out his championship trophy. The orange and yellow light from the fire bounced off the plaque detailing his victory. He had it back now. It was safe in his possession, where it belonged. No longer would he have to think about people like Kreese or Kyler or Robby getting to look at his trophy. And his friends had all helped him do it, they’d taken on great risk to give him this moment. They did it for him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, how do you feel?” asked Hawk, throwing a hand over Miguel’s shoulder warmly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Putting the trophy back in his bag, Miguel couldn’t hold back his grin. He rubbed the palm of his hand across his eyes, but his smile spread from ear-to-ear. He wanted to laugh with joy, actual joy. “I feel like a champ again,” he admitted, staring at Hawk, the one who’d first suggested this months ago. Wrapping his arm around Hawk’s back, Miguel hoped he knew how much he appreciated it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?” Tugging Miguel closer to wrap his other hand around his jaw, Hawk pulled him into a deep kiss, one Miguel returned with enthusiasm. When they broke, Hawk murmured, “You’ve always been the champ.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Honor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Hey, can you and me talk? Like, just the two of us for a while?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk was surprised Sam didn’t immediately throw his offer in his face and take off running, considering how awkward it had felt saying it. She kept walking undeterred down the school hallway toward the cafeteria, not even ducking away from him as he strolled beside her. But he didn’t miss the skeptical pinch that drew her eyebrows close together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why?” Sam asked, sounding openly suspicious.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I had some things I wanted to get off my chest,” Hawk answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arching a brow, Sam gave him a sideways glance and remarked, “‘Things’? What sort of things?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting out a soft sigh, Hawk attempted to explain himself better. “Y’know, about some of the stuff I did before joining Eagle Fang. To Miyagi-Do, to you. Look, I’m not saying we need to become friends or buddies or anything, but I was thinking maybe we could talk it out. I dunno, make peace or reach an understanding or something, whatever you wanna call it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s eyebrow didn’t come back down. She stared at him, scrutinizing him even harder, like she was trying to read his mind. And Hawk started to think this wasn’t going to work, that Miguel was wrong and there was no way he and Sam were ever going to be civil with each other, that there was simply too much bad blood and nothing he could say or do would change that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But just as that doubt crossed his mind, Sam surprised him by muttering, “Fine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So. The lines of communication would be open now. Hawk’s fingers twitched by his sides, thinking about how that would go later. He nodded at her, not knowing how else to respond but by dropping a simple, “Okay.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then Sam turned around to face him in a more confrontational style, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. “But I’m letting everyone in the group chat know we’ll be out together.” She said it in such a threatening way, like that would deter him. And Hawk knew why. Sam didn’t trust him. That was a given. She probably thought he was cooking up some dastardly scheme or something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He shrugged, not letting himself be dragged into an argument. At least not yet. “Go for it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk guessed that wasn’t the response Sam was expecting or hoping for. Perhaps she was hoping he’d give her an out, a reason to confirm her worst suspicions about him. “I’m driving us, too,” she said next, making it clear by the tone of her voice that it wasn’t up for negotiation. “And I’ll pick where we’ll go to talk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his shoulders again, Hawk loosened the tension from his muscles that had started building there from annoyance. He even managed to avoid rolling his eyes at her display of frank distrust. “Whatever makes you comfortable,” he said, swallowing the word “Princess” before it came out of his mouth on reflex. She would have taken that as an excuse to back out, no doubt.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam continued glaring at him for a lengthy minute, as if she was waiting for him to reveal his cards. And when he had no cards to show, she finally said, “Okay. I’ll pick you up at four o’clock. Don’t keep me waiting. And Hawk? If this is a trick? You’ll be sorry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was the warmest day of the year so far, a perfect way to welcome the first week of April. So when Miguel arrived home after school, he couldn’t resist grabbing his soccer ball and going outside in the parking lot to kick it around. Having come such a long way in his recovery, even when he wasn’t at karate practice, he longed to be outside, doing something physical, simply reminding himself he could do these things again and not to take them for granted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He wished Hawk was around to have a quick game with, but he’d seen the message from Sam that the two of them were going out for a drink. He’d replied with a thumb’s-up emoji. It sounded like Hawk was listening to his suggestion to try and make peace with Sam. That could only be a good thing, in his book. Maybe he would text Hawk to come over later and tell him how it went.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But for now, Miguel concentrated on juggling the soccer ball. He bounced it on his head fifteen, sixteen, seventeen times, his smile widening with each successful headbutt. His coordination skills had improved even more of late. He ended the last bounce with an acrobatic attempt to jump backward and catch it on his knee, to start juggling it from there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His misaimed, and the ball hit his leg instead, sending it bouncing forward across the parking lot. When the soccer ball rolled across the asphalt and bumped against the back tire of the Eagle Van, Miguel pressed his lips in a thin line. Should he go over and try talking to Sensei Lawrence again, he wondered?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It had crossed his mind off and on over the previous couple of weeks. He was starting to think Sensei Lawrence had no real plan to ever bring it up again. And maybe they shouldn’t. His mom had even said that she was past the raw feelings of anger and hurt. But it didn’t feel right. Miguel still wanted to know how Sensei could have done it, how he could have been so flippant with his mother’s feelings.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then what was that business with sending her flowers? Was Sensei trying to make things up with his mom? Was he trying to win her back? Miguel didn’t know how to feel about that. A few months ago, the mere possibility of Sensei and his mom hooking up would have filled him with an excitement he would have barely been able to contain. But now….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The sound of a car honk drew his attention to a yellow Ford Convertible pulling into the Reseda Heights parking lot. Miguel recognized the model immediately as the Super Deluxe, and after picking up his ball he ran over to where it parked to greet the driver. “Hey, Mr. LaRusso! You here to see Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Actually, I came to see if <em>you</em> were free for a while,” answered Mr. LaRusso, resting his elbow against his doorframe. He already had the top down. “It’s a beautiful day outside, I thought we could take a drive, talk a little.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s stomach bottomed out so fast he steadied himself with his hand on the door so he didn’t get lightheaded. The first thought that jumped to his mind was that Mr. LaRusso knew. Had he finally found out about <em>Operation: Trophy Heist</em>? A couple of days short of a full week had passed, and the other shoe hadn’t dropped yet. Neither Sensei Lawrence nor Mr. LaRusso had mentioned having learned about their mission at the Cobra Kai dojo. And Sensei Kreese had yet to make a move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The anticipation was becoming worse than any subsequent chew-out could possibly have been. Each day Miguel expected the ax to fall. And for that reason, maybe it was better to jump in and get it over with. He had to face the music sooner or later.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So, with lingering trepidation, he nodded at Mr. LaRusso. “Uh, yeah. Sounds fun. I’ll go tell my grandma real quick and, yeah, we can head out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam drove them to a Starbucks on the outskirts of Encino. They barely spoke more two words to each other the entire drive, or when they ordered their drinks. Sam even rebuffed his offer to buy her coffee to get off on the right foot. Hawk sighed irately and shrugged it off. They took their drinks and walked outside to sit down at one of the patio tables. At least it was a nice, sunny day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, start talking,” said Sam. “You have until I finish my frap.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s face twisted in exasperation. “Jesus Christ, you couldn’t have at least ordered a venti?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam glared at him, reached down to grab her grande white chocolate mocha frappuccino, and took a big sip from the straw to let him know she meant exactly what she said.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He guessed there was no point in a bullshit lead-up then. So Hawk cut right to the chase. “Look I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The girl across from him didn’t set her drink back down, but she did stop sipping from the straw. And Hawk watched Sam’s face for any clue about what she might be feeling to hear an apology from him finally. He found her expression unreadable, even when she told him, “I’m listening.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk hoped that would be enough since he wasn’t exactly talented with his words, but Sam wasn’t Demetri or Miguel. A simple apology wouldn’t cut it with her. And why would it? They at least knew him from before he’d listened to Sensei Kreese, before he’d gotten cruel and mean and turned into a bully. But what else did Sam know about him but that he was all those things?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk mulled over that thought for a few seconds, taking a drink of his coffee. Maybe that was the reason why he hadn’t tried at all with Sam. He liked how easy it was with her. She hated him, end of story. She treated him the way he deserved to be treated, deep down. He enjoyed the fact that she hated him. It almost gave him a sense of validation, the part of him that felt he didn’t deserve to be forgiven for the things he did. So he hadn’t wanted to put in the work with her to right those wrongs at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But that was still the coward’s way out. Miguel had seen it and called him out on it. And Hawk had vowed to never run away from his problems anymore like he used to before Cobra Kai. The Hawk wasn’t scared of anything.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry about leading the attack on your home in December,” said Hawk, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap under the table. “I got caught up with Sensei Kreese’s talk about the war between our dojos. I thought Miyagi-Do was the enemy and all I wanted to do was finish the fight once and for all. But I’m sorry for doing that. I’m sorry for wrecking your house.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After taking another swallow of her drink, Sam set it down and crossed her arms over her chest. “And what about terrorizing us at school?” she challenged.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk nodded once, his eyes flitting away. “Sorry about that, too. And for the things I said to you.” His stomach was churning from having to confess all that, over having to remember all the things he’d said and done to Sam during their conflicts. He surprised himself how nauseous it made him just thinking about it; but perhaps it was from his gut starting to unknot itself, from all the time it had been twisted holding that guilt in.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s breaths seemed to be picking up as she sat there staring at him, moving only to brush her wavy hair behind her ear. He could only imagine what she was thinking, whether or not she was accepting his apologies in good faith. “And what about breaking Demetri’s arm?” she demanded. “Demetri says you were guys were best friends, how could you possibly do that to a friend you’ve known for that long?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk had nothing to offer her but the truth. “Because I wanted you guys to pay for what happened to Miguel.” Sam’s eyes widened, but before she could interject, Hawk went on. “I know what I did was fucked up, and I’m sorry you had to see that happen. And if I could take it back, I would, I would take it all back, but I can’t. But that’s the truth. I hated all you guys for Miguel getting hurt and I just wanted someone to answer for it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam looked taken aback by his frankness. But she didn’t stay silent for very long. “Someone <em>did</em> answer for it,” she argued. “They sent Robby to juvie, and he did his time. What, that wasn’t enough for you? Do you really think you were the only one upset about Miguel’s fall? You think you’re the only one who cares about him?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her voice cracked at the end. She tried masking it by taking another long drink from her frap. Hawk did her the favor of pretending he didn’t notice her voice break, but Sam’s words nevertheless had their effect on him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry for accusing you of siccing Robby on him,” Hawk muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He still took issue with how Sam had handled her relationship with Miguel, both times, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself and denying that there had been genuine feelings on her end. She’d visited Miguel in the hospital. She’d helped raise the money for Miguel’s medical bills, the money he'd stolen to give on Cobra Kai’s behalf instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He couldn’t lay the sole claim between them for loving Miguel. If nothing else, they had that much in common, he figured. Maybe she could also see that many of his own actions, however misguided, were genuine in what had motivated them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk tried explaining, “Before Cobra Kai came along, I was…well, I wasn’t as badass as I am now.” Sam scoffed at how he phrased that. He wondered if she even remembered how much of a loser he used to be. “Miguel was the first person who ever stood up for me. He made me feel like I could change everything about my life that sucked. So when he got hurt, I wanted to return the favor. I just wanted to make everything right, and I didn’t know how. And when he got mad at the things I did, it felt like it was all for nothing. After that, it felt like the only thing I had left was Cobra Kai. But I was wrong about that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He knew he wasn’t explaining himself well. If there was a way he could have proved his remorse to Sam via his actions, he would have preferred that in a heartbeat. Because this was excruciating, it was like pulling teeth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam sat there in her chair, arms still crossed, studying him. “Look, just because you were feeling hurt, that didn’t give you an excuse to be a bully.” Her words were still harsh, but they didn’t have the bite they’d previously did. She then got quiet, looking like she was struggling inside over everything he was telling her. Her eyes never left him though, even when she reached for her drink. She kept staring at him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk nodded again. “I know. And I’ve been trying to make up for it.” That was the whole reason they were having their conversation right now. And, just like his conversations with Demetri, Hawk felt lighter for getting his baggage off his chest. There was a relief coming from letting it all out between them, finally.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Sam sat silently, slowly sipping from her frap for the next few minutes, occasionally breaking to stir the straw, Hawk’s eyes were drawn across the street to the taco truck on the corner. He spotted three familiar faces at the condiment stand: Dieter, Big Red, and Doug. He should have been more surprised by that revelation than he was, but at this point, their presence almost made him laugh. First at Golf ’N Stuff, then at Applebee’s, so why wouldn’t they show up now across from the Starbucks?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk kept his expression as stony as he could when they caught him glaring back, when they all smirked at him before sauntering off down the block, Dieter pulling out his phone while they laughed with each other. He was sick and tired of their stupid game. He wanted to go and deal with them, right then and there. After all, the truce was finished, right? But then there was Sam to think about.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He turned his attention back to her. At least she hadn’t noticed. He could very well imagine how she would react to seeing the Cobras there. She’d say this was all a setup, and no amount of Hawk telling her they’d made it a habit of “coincidentally” showing up to intimidate him and his friends while they were out would convince her otherwise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So he said nothing about them to her, instead picking up his own coffee and tilting it back for a big gulp.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel squinted against the wind as it blew across his face in the Ford. With the top down, he could smell the heavy salt from the vast Pacific Ocean as Mr. LaRusso drove them up the scenic route. He couldn’t shake the heavy dread in his stomach, though, from waiting for Mr. LaRusso to get to the real point of their ride.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Now, I don’t mean to stick my nose in anyone’s business,” Mr. LaRusso said, finally breaking the small talk they’d been mumbling back and forth to each other since they’d gotten on the road, “but I couldn’t help but notice you and Sensei Lawrence have been a little distant lately.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel let out a deep breath, blinking the surprise out of his eyes. <em>Thank goodness</em>, he thought. Mr. LaRusso wasn’t there to talk about the trophy situation. “It’s just some personal stuff,” he explained vaguely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even though he was happy that the talk had gone in a different direction than he expected, he had no desire to air his and Sensei Lawrence’s business in front of Mr. LaRusso. The two instructors may have come leagues in getting along with each other better, but for as upset as Miguel currently was with his Sensei, and for as much as he’d come to like Sam’s father, he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire between the two.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso nodded. “I figured, and I don’t want to pry too deep into that. But I also assumed it wasn’t too hard to pinpoint the source of the tension.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?” Miguel tensed some at that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s Robby, isn’t it?” asked Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In his seat, Miguel remained quiet, casting his eyes past Mr. LaRusso to the ocean again. He wanted to tell Mr. LaRusso that he was wrong, that it wasn’t about Robby. But no way was he going to tell him about what happened between his mother and Sensei Lawrence. It really wasn’t any of his business.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso must have taken his silence for confirmation. “I bet it must feel weird for you, being caught in the middle of things between Sensei Lawrence and Robby,” he went on. “Probably would be weird in the best of circumstances, but after, well, everything that’s happened, I gotta imagine it can’t be fun to be in your shoes. But you understand Sensei Lawrence’s position, too, right? Having to watch his kid train under Kreese, one of the worst teachers to ever teach kids karate. And now with Silver back in the picture, too. You kids don’t even know how terrible he is, and I hope you never find out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had overheard Mr. LaRusso drop that name - Terry Silver - a few times with Sensei Lawrence since the latter half of March. But other than the fact that his presence alongside Kreese upset the instructor of Miyagi-Do, he had no clue what the significance of him being around meant, other than apparently Cobra Kai having co-teachers was more bad news. What was one more thing to the ever-growing pile?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, why doesn’t Sensei just make Robby quit Cobra Kai then?” asked Miguel, drumming his fingers along the side of his door.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso sighed. “I wish I could give you an easy answer to that question, but things are, unfortunately, very complicated right now. Too complicated, for my tastes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">By that point, Miguel didn’t even know if he cared. Cobra Kai was dead, or at least his Cobra Kai was. And in a little over a month, it would be dead to the Valley, he would make sure of it. Miguel was counting down the days now. Between him and Hawk, they would defeat Robby and win the All-Valley Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler could go back to being a jock wrestler. Perhaps they could still convince Tory to join Eagle Fang. And as for Robby? Miguel didn’t care what he did. He didn’t want Robby to be his problem anymore, and after the All-Valley, he wouldn’t be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why are you telling me this?” he asked Mr. LaRusso, his brows creasing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel, both Sensei Lawrence and I let Robby down,” confessed Mr. LaRusso. “If it weren’t for us, he wouldn’t be in this mess with Kreese and Silver right now. And it’s taking its toll on Sensei Lawrence to be training you kids, knowing there’s a good chance one of you will be going up against Robby in the Tournament.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s jaw locked. “So Sensei doesn’t want me to win?” he asked, straining the question out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso shook his head. “I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is that he’s in a situation where he’s, well, he’s not gonna come out of this Tournament feeling like he’s won, no matter what the outcome is. Unless it ends with Robby away from Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All but deflating in his seat, Miguel ran a hand absent-mindedly through his hair and let the quiet envelop him again as he mulled over what Mr. LaRusso was telling him. And it truly sunk in. Even if he won the Tournament, even if he fought with honor and didn’t take advantage of an injury this time, even if he did everything right, there was no way Sensei Lawrence could be proud of him. Because becoming a two-time champ would mean he’d defeated his son yet again. And Sensei could never consider that a win.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“There’s something else I wanted to apologize for,” admitted Hawk, watching as Sam took another taste of her drink. She was about halfway done, so he figured he’d been making good use of his time. “Last summer, you probably remember when your guys’ dojo got vandalized.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam shook her head, pursing her lips when she pulled the straw away and set her cup back down. Hard. “I should’ve known. Aisha tried to tell me she didn’t have anything to do with it. I should have believed her. I mean, if you and Tory had no problem bringing your gang to break into my house and attack us, of course you guys wouldn’t be above wrecking our dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tory didn’t have anything to do with what happened at Miyagi-Do last summer,” corrected Hawk, furrowing his brows. He hadn’t mentioned Tory once so far. For as much as Sam hated him, she must have thought even worse of Tory if she automatically jumped to the conclusion that she’d been involved.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam narrowed her eyes. “So what? You did it alone?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was <em>my</em> idea to trash the dojo. I wanted to get you guys back for the mall fight,” Hawk explained carefully. True, Mitch had also been there that night, but only at his persuasion. Mitch wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t told him to, so he would shoulder the burden of responsibility on his own. Besides, Mitch hadn’t even known about his other misdeed from that night. “And I’m the one who took the medal of honor.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Across from him, Sam’s jaw went slack for a few seconds. Then she clenched it back together tight, so hard her bottom lip started trembling. And her cheeks flushed a bright, angry red. “You asshole!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand against the table for emphasis, her voice heated. “Do you even know how important that medal is to my family?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess not,” Hawk admitted under his breath, his face going neutral at the sound of her rising voice. He’d struck a deep nerve. He ought to have expected anger would be the response.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It belonged to Mr. Miyagi,” Sam explained pointedly. “He got it for defending the country during World War II, he fought against his own people to earn that medal! You have no clue the sacrifices he made, what he personally lost to serve this country. He was brave and kind and did so many great things, and that medal is one of the most precious keepsakes my family has left of him. And you just decided to steal it?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Getting overwhelmed with the information being thrown furiously at him, all Hawk could think to say in response was, “I-I didn’t know.…”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He was like a grandfather to me! He was—” Sam stopped herself, biting down on her bottom lip, brushing her hair back again, her face as red as a beet. She was more upset than Hawk could ever remember seeing her. She looked like she didn’t want to get into it with him, that this was getting too personal for her to keep it together. So, letting out a noise somewhere between a huff and a laugh, she asked him, “Are you gonna tell me you did this for Miguel, too?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” Hawk answered honestly. “Miguel’s the one who returned the medal.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s frown deepened. “I know he did. Because Miguel’s actually changed, he was a good guy underneath that Cobra Kai conditioning. But you? You’re just petty and spiteful. What kind of sick person steals a medal of honor? It’s like the only way you know how to react to anything is through anger and violence and cruelty. And you might have the others fooled, but I know you’ll <em>never</em> change.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her bottom lip had started quivering again and Sam all but launched herself up from her chair, throwing her purse over her shoulder. She only remembered at the last moment to grab her drink before starting to storm off, leaving Hawk behind at their table.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wait,” argued Hawk, standing up from his chair, “you drove me here. How am I supposed to get home?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Throwing her half-empty frap into the garbage can, Sam yelled, “Call an Uber for all I care!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Bye Bye Birdie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Sam had been right that he reacted to things in violent ways. But Hawk figured if he could channel that aggression against their common enemy, perhaps that would prove to everyone in Miyagi-Do once and for all that they could trust him. They would see he had changed. He may have helped escalate the dojo war while he was fighting for Cobra Kai, but he would fix everything on his own now and show them that he wasn’t who he used to be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So he left the Starbucks and went for a walk. First, he crossed the street and strolled up the block he’d seen his ex-teammates travel. It turned out they hadn’t stayed hovering around there for very long. But Hawk suspected they weren’t too far. They’d probably see him before he found them. That was fine. One way or another, a confrontation was going down that day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He could already imagine what his friends would have to say about his choice. Miguel would say he was being impulsive and shouldn’t have even thought of doing this without telling him. Demetri would also tell him it was stupid to do this on his own without his friends watching his back. Sensei Lawrence would probably just call him an idiot.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shoved those considerations aside, concentrating on tracking his enemies. Or waiting for them to track him. The trio would not likely make a big scene in a public area, not in broad daylight. So Hawk decided to bait them, walking past the busier streets, all the way until he hit the parking lot of a Trader Joe’s across from the neighboring houses. More privacy in that part of town.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hovered around the area for a while, circling the long way around the lot connecting the Trader Joe’s to the Shell Station. And when he turned the corner, heading back toward the front, he spotted them across the street at the empty Mobil parking lot: the quiver of Cobras.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He couldn’t close the distance between them fast enough, darting across traffic, earning a car honk, before sauntering up to Dieter, Big Red, and Doug. The three of them stood there, arms crossed and expressions serious. Hawk told them, “I was wondering when you guys would show your faces.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You knew where to find us,” said Big Red. “You could’ve come to Cobra Kai at any time if you wanted a fight. Instead, all you do is throw bricks into windows in the middle of the night when no one’s around.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug frowned. “I knew hanging around Sensei Lawrence’s Eagle Farts would turn you into a pussy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Who the hell are you calling a pussy?” rebutted Hawk, curling his scarred upper lip back, not bothering to correct them that he hadn’t been the one to throw the brick into the dojo’s window. “You’re the ones who’ve been reduced to stalking me around like a bunch of pansy-ass chickenshits. So, how <em>have</em> you guys been tracking me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Dieter held up his phone. Hawk blinked at him, wondering what that was supposed to mean. “What? Did you forget about that day in the cafeteria?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pinched his eyebrows together, trying to jog his memory. Then he sighed in frustration, recalling when Kyler had flung his phone across the cafeteria floor. Dieter had retrieved it. They must have messed with it then so they could track his iPhone. “Shit,” he muttered. Why hadn’t he thought about that at the time? “So, is Kyler around, too, or is it just you three clowns?” he asked, recovering from that surprise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I told Kyler from the beginning you were off-limits. He knows you’re mine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk clenched his fists and turned sharply at the voice from behind him. He couldn’t say he was exactly shocked by whom he saw. “Tory.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was wondering when you’d give us a reason to do this before the All-Valley.” Tory stood there, looking as impeccable as she always did when she was prepared for a fight. Arching an eyebrow, she cast a quick glance around Hawk. “Where’s the Princess?” she asked. “They told me you two were hanging out. Interesting company you’re keeping these days.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, two against four isn’t really fair, is it?” Hawk replied, squaring his shoulders back, keeping his eyes locked on Tory but his ears open for the crew hovering behind him. It was only a matter of time now. It got his blood pumping just thinking about it. He was itching for a fight. No more waiting. “I mean, I have to at least give you guys a fighting chance.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory didn’t appear convinced or impressed by his bravado. “Too bad. I was hoping to take out two birds with one stone, enemies <em>and</em> traitors.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The only traitor around here is Kreese,” argued Hawk, giving Tory a hard look. “He let Robby into the dojo after he almost killed Miguel. What happened to Cobra Kai being for life?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Says the traitor who turned on Cobra Kai,” retorted Tory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk shook his head. “Kreese is gonna do the same thing to you that he did to Miguel once you’re not useful to him anymore. Just like he did to Mitch and Bert, too. Kreese doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and he betrayed what Cobra Kai was supposed to stand for.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The girl standing in front of him flitted her eyes before narrowing them and declaring, “Sensei Kreese <em>is</em> Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory swung her leg up after that proclamation, aiming a kick at Hawk’s shoulder, which he ducked to avoid. A pair of hands shoved him from behind, straight into Tory, who was ready to counter her miss with a following right hook, but Hawk dropped to his knees, balancing on his palms to strike his own leg out and sweep hers out from under her, sending Tory falling to the ground. He then pivoted around, rounding a kick in time to strike Doug in the chest when he came at him from behind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>There</em>, Hawk thought. Now at least he could tell Sensei Lawrence he hadn’t been the one to start the fight. But he was going to finish it. “Finally!” he exclaimed out loud, an exhilarated grin spreading across his face. “It’s on!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jumping back up to his feet, Hawk grunted when Big Red hit him with a back punch, but he retaliated with a harsh kick between Big Red’s legs, sending the other boy down instantly with a yelp.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Dieter nailed him with a knife-hand punch to his neck, but Hawk ignored the soreness, grabbing Dieter by his wrist and twisting him around, pulling his arm behind his back and presenting him as a shield just in time for Dieter to take the kick to the chest Tory had been aiming at him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The cellphone in Hawk’s pocket started ringing. Ignoring it and releasing Dieter so he could drop to the ground, Hawk blocked Tory’s follow-up punch and returned it with a hit to her shoulder. He struck at her again, but this time she shot her arm out to knock his hit away and slugged his jaw with her right hook.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk recovered and countered in time to avoid her next punch, grasping her wrist and twisting it back. When she winced, he let her go, only to then deliver a kick to her stomach. Hawk reared around for another, only for Doug to drop in from behind and wrap an arm around his neck. Doug spin-twisted him, sending Hawk crashing into the nearby trash cans, knocking them over.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Doug came at him again with an ax kick directed at his head, Hawk ducked, grabbed the metal lid from one of the overturned trash bins, leaped back to his feet, and slammed the lid against Doug’s face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug recoiled, covering his broken, bleeding nose with his hands. Tory let out a frustrated yell, aiming a kick at Hawk’s chest, which he dodged by ducking low. Sweeping up again, Hawk grabbed Tory’s shoulders, dragged her down and driving his knee into her gut. He then shoved her away, only to then take a surprise elbow to his temple out of nowhere. Big Red was up again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk thought he had a ringing in his ears from that blow, only to realize it was his cell going off again. Once more, he could only put it out of his mind to deal with the more pressing matter at hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking the disorientation of the hit, Hawk couldn’t block the next punch to his jaw in time, sending him stumbling backward. But when Big Red came at him with another, Hawk stooped down and then enveloped his arms around the Cobra, swinging them around and body-slamming Big Red into the strewn garbage on the hard ground. Snatching a nearby empty soda can, he crushed it against Big Red’s forehead when his adversary tried sitting up, and slugged him across the jaw for good measure, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that all you guys got?” taunted Hawk, spreading his arms open to invite them for more while he stood up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug and Dieter gave each other a glance, looking like they were having second thoughts. But Tory wasn’t deterred. She merely raised her fists and grinned between her panting breaths. “And here I was worried all that time around the Miyagi-Dos would make you weak,” she said, sounding almost relieved that he hadn’t disappointed her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Glad to see you haven’t lost your edge either, if the best you have to train with at Cobra Kai are these guys,” returned Hawk before leaping up, launching himself around in a windmill kick and striking Dieter against the side of his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Dieter hit the ground, Tory came at Hawk with a straight punch. Hawk blocked it, and she grabbed his arm, reaching out with her other hand to wrap around his opposite shoulder to drive him into a headbutt. She then kicked him in the chest into Doug’s waiting arms before reaching up a hand to brush the loose strands of hair from her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stomped his foot down on Doug’s, making him wince enough to loosen his hold. Grasping Doug’s arm, Hawk flipped him over, throwing him onto the ground. He followed up with a pile-drive, throwing the sharp bone of his elbow into Doug’s gut, making him double-over with a loud groan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk cringed when Tory yanked him back by his hood. He contorted around, wrapping his hand around Tory’s leg and pulling it out from under her. Hawk attempted to stand up, only for Tory to put him into a headlock from behind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gritting his teeth, Hawk first tried to pull out of it, tugging at Tory’s arm with his hands, but Tory tightened her grip. So he drove his elbow into Tory’s ribs. He heard her grunt in pain, but she didn’t release him. He propelled his elbow again into her side again, harder, and this time Tory cried out loud, breaking her hold on him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swirled around, punching her gut. She launched her hand down with a chopping motion, only for Hawk to block it. He then backhanded her with his fist, striking her jaw. He got on his feet, swaying slightly as the strain of the fight started catching up to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Tory stood up, he was ready with a forward punch. Tory ducked, but couldn’t dodge his swinging kick that landed on her ribs, knocking her back. Hawk raised his fists, ready for more.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Both of them were running short on breath, shoulders rising and falling between rapid gasps for air. The other Cobras remained down on the ground, out of the fight. Tory held Hawk’s glare for a long moment before she cringed, wrapping an arm around her ribs. Hawk narrowed his eyes. Had he hurt her worse than he realized when he’d struck her there?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Suddenly, Tory turned around on her heel and took off down the empty lot separating the Mobil from the 7-Eleven next door, pushing past the shrubbery. Hawk blinked in surprise at her hastened retreat, but he didn’t hesitate. He took off after her.</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once she stormed away from the Starbucks, Sam sat in her car for a while, intending to calm down and collect her thoughts. In practice, however, that merely resulted in her stewing in her anger for around fifteen minutes. Which suited her fine.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk had confirmed to her what she already knew, and more. Not only was he horrible, but he was also a next-level asshole. Had her dad known about the vandalism before agreeing to let Hawk attend classes? He certainly couldn’t have been aware of him stealing the medal of honor. Her father never would’ve let that slide, she was sure of it. Not such an egregious insult to the memory of Mr. Miyagi.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And what would be her father’s reaction when she told him after she got home? Would he kick Hawk out? Didn’t he deserve to be thrown out of the dojo he’d desecrated? After all, terrible people like Hawk - like Tory - weren’t capable of change, were they?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Brushing her hair behind her ear, Sam remembered when she was a little girl. When she’d gotten in an argument with a friend. They’d both hurt each other’s feelings. Sam had wanted to hold onto the bitterness of being wronged. But Mr. Miyagi had given her advice, encouraging her and her friend to make amends.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>A person with no forgiveness in their heart is living an even worse punishment than death.</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Pushing that out of her head, Sam stuck her keys in the ignition, started her car, and drove out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While she cruised down the suburban neighborhood, Sam started chewing on her bottom lip. Battling against her righteous anger was another memory, this one from only a few months prior, of the two dojos meeting at her house to discuss strategy. She heard her own words ringing in her ears now:</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>We all make the pact. Everyone makes the pledge or they quit right here and now. No matter how we personally feel about each other, going forward all of us have each other’s backs. We’re all in this together, no matter what. Nobody abandons each other.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The streetlight turned red, bringing her to a stop. And Sam chewed her lip harder, a weight beginning to sink in her chest as she realized she’d broken the pact.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Immediately, her mind raced to come up with justifications. These were mitigating circumstances. And it wasn’t like Hawk couldn’t find a way home, he had public transportation if nothing else. It wasn’t like she’d left him stranded in the Reseda strip mall, where the Cobras were actually nested.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was horrible. He shouldn’t have even been in the group in the first place. And yet, <em>he’d</em> kept to the pact….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After another moment’s lingering hesitation, Sam pressed the Bluetooth on her dashboard, scrolled quickly through her contacts, and selected Hawk’s number. As the light flashed green and she tapped the gas, she listened while the phone kept ringing through her speakers until it sent to voicemail.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hitting the red button to end the call, Sam almost considered the matter ended there. If Hawk was going to ignore her call, she could at least say she tried. But she couldn’t ignore the churning in her gut now telling her something was wrong.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So she tried again. The same result, ringing until it forwarded to his voicemail. This time she left a message. “Hawk, pick up your phone. Call or text me back and at least let me know you caught the bus or something. If not, tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She drove up a few more blocks, waiting at each subsequent red light and stop sign for a response from Hawk. But no call came in, and neither did a text. Sam wanted to convince herself it was merely Hawk ignoring her, that she’d ruffled his feathers so bad he was going to be petty and give her the silent treatment. Her gut suggested otherwise, however. And her parents had taught her to trust her gut feeling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Parting her lips to let loose an aggravated sigh, Sam made a u-turn and headed back in the direction she had come.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Hawk caught up with her in the alley behind the 7-Eleven, Tory turned around to face him, catching him off-guard with a swift roundhouse kick to the jaw. It sent him crashing against the nearby dumpster, disorienting him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory grabbed him by fistfuls of his hoodie and tried slamming him face-first into the side of the dumpster again. But Hawk threw his hands out in defense, catching himself against it to absorb the impact. He pushed himself away from it and threw his head back, cracking it against Tory’s forehead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She cried out, releasing her grip on him. Hawk swung around and delivered a back punch to her arm. She launched her other fist forward, but Hawk caught her arm. He flipped her over his back and tossed her against the building.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory hit the brick wall behind her hard and crumbled into a heap. Hawk heard her groan as she slowly rolled over onto her stomach, pressing her palms against the asphalt to push herself back up. But he caught the way her elbows shook from the strain. And he realized he was one quick, brutal move away from finishing the fight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wiping the blood from his lip, Hawk wondered, would Sensei Lawrence have him so mercy or no mercy in this situation? Miguel had hoped Tory would come over to their side, but she’d drank too much of the Cobra Kai Kool-aid to trust them. And even Miguel knew they’d have to fight her to win the war. If he took Tory out, Cobra Kai would be down one of its most powerful fighters. And what better way to show Sam he was genuinely remorseful about his misdeeds than neutralizing her biggest enemy?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But instead of Sensei Lawrence, Miguel or Sam, it was Sensei Kreese’s advice Hawk heard in his ear urging him on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>A true Cobra feels no sympathy for its meals.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But he wasn’t a Cobra. He was an Eagle Fang. And Tory wasn’t his meal. She had been his friend. The whole reason he had left Cobra Kai was so he didn’t have to fight his friends anymore.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We’re done,” Hawk declared, taking a step back, lowering his hands down to his sides. “The fight’s over.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, Sensei Lawrence got to you, too, with that mercy bullshit?” asked Tory, pushing herself up into a sitting position, leaning her back against the wall. Hawk spotted a gash on her right temple, which was now dripping blood. “I thought if anyone understood life doesn’t show mercy, it was you. You love to fight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shaking his head, Hawk told her, “I don’t care about all that right now. All I know is you’re not my enemy. At least, you shouldn’t be. Don’t you understand, this is what Kreese does, he turns your friends into your enemies, but you don’t have to listen to him!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory scowled. “<em>Friend</em>? You betrayed us! You <em>left</em> us! Just like Miguel, just like the others!” Even as she sat there referring to a collective ‘us’, Hawk had the suspicion she wasn’t referring to all of Cobra Kai anymore. And he supposed she didn’t see his betrayal as only hurting the dojo. “Everything could have ended back at LaRusso’s that night if you hadn’t let us down. And for what? To surround yourself with people who hate your guts?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s harsh brow softened as he started to question if Tory was projecting at this point. “Is that why you won’t leave? You’re worried everyone will hate you?” That was, admittedly, a scary step. He could attest to that. Finally getting to the point where you wanted to stop was hard knowing what consequences laid before you. But didn’t Tory know she wouldn’t have to face those consequences alone? Didn’t she know the others in Eagle Fang would welcome her, just like they had him? “Tory, listen, I know that it isn’t easy, but maybe we could—aagh!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The impact of something hard striking his right shoulder-blade had Hawk stumbling forward, clutching his arm close to him. “Shit!” he hissed, his skin warming up with a sudden throbbing pain that pulsed through those muscles. He was only barely able to push himself through it long enough to take a few steps away from Tory and whoever had attacked him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I told you you'd better watch your back,” Tory remarked, standing back up on her feet with a wince, using the brick wall behind her to support herself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk swallowed, trying to move his arm, only to clench his jaw tighter when that resulted in a hotter sting crying from the muscles in his shoulder. It was dislocated, he knew it. And things only got worse when he laid his eyes on his attacker, who stepped up beside Tory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Keene….” Robby had been the one who kicked him from behind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You landed a cheap shot, I landed a cheap shot,” observed Robby, his tone betraying no emotions, not even pride or malice. But a smile did cross his mouth as he adjusted his backpack, eyeing Hawk. “I guess you could say we’re finally even now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s mind raced, scrambling to think what he should do with this new development. If it was Tory alone, perhaps he could have taken her with a busted shoulder, but how was he going to fight Robby? He tried to envision a strategy, anything but running away….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory’s eyes lingered on Hawk for a few seconds when he didn’t make a dash for it, sparing a glance at Robby before turning them back on Hawk. Then, with the last of her strength, she spun around and kicked her leg out, driving the heel of her boot into Hawk’s left kneecap with the full weight of her body. The resulting <em>crack</em> made by the point of contact was drowned out by the scream that tore from Hawk’s throat as he collapsed on the ground, curling into himself and grabbing his knee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fuck! God!” he screamed, squinting his eyes against the pain as they started to water. Even gritting his teeth did little to contain his groans as he laid there, cradling his knee close to him. And through the sharp, searing pain that was coursing from his injury and up to his brain, Hawk had a moment to wonder if this was what it must have felt like for Demetri when he’d snapped his arm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory took a couple of steps back, brushing her hair out of her face. She then stood still, catching her breath, staring wide-eyed at Hawk as he laid there, like she was in a daze. It wasn’t until Robby took off the backpack he was wearing and unzipped it that she refocused.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Through his burning eyes, Hawk thought he made out a pair of scissors when Robby pulled his hand out of his bag. What were those for? “Here,” said Robby, presenting them to Tory.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Looking at the scissors, Tory reached out to accept them, only to pause her hand mid-air, curling in her fingers. Glancing down at Hawk again, she said, “That hit will put him out of the Tournament. Now nobody left in those dojos will stand a chance against Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do you remember what Mr. Silver said?” asked Robby. “‘When you think they’ve suffered enough….’”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“‘Then you start with the pain…’,” Tory breathed, slowly accepting the scissors this time. Their words almost sounded empty coming out of both their mouths. Hawk, too, remembered what it was like to parrot words without fully comprehending the consequences behind them. And for a minute, Tory simply remained standing there holding the scissors in her hand, making no other move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tory…,” Hawk strained through his clenched jaw. Was she really going to stab him? Or gouge his eyes out? Had Sensei Kreese finally got her rage to that point? But then, why the hesitation? Was that doubt? He needed to take advantage of her indecisiveness and get out of there while he still could, but he couldn’t move. He was helpless. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be helpless.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory took a step closer to him, opening the scissors in her hand, only to stop again. She gritted her teeth, like she was working up her anger to propel her forward all the way, yet her eyes betrayed another emotion entirely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And this time, Robby laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. Gently, he took the scissors back out of her hand. Then he looked down at Hawk. “<em>I’ll</em> fix his stupid haircut.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sat on the bench, staring out at the Pacific Ocean. The sun was going to be setting soon, and he noticed how mesmerizing the orange and purple horizon could be where it met the darkening ocean water. The man sitting beside him had gotten quiet for a while, only sipping from his straw every couple of minutes to remind Miguel he was still there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso had stopped to buy them a couple of bobas when they got to the beach. He’d prattled on some more about Robby, but the longer he’d went on, the more Miguel had started to zone out. Because now he couldn’t think about facing Robby again without knowing that a victory against him wouldn’t be a win for Sensei.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d swallowed a rising bitterness inside him upon realizing that even this, the very victory he was training for, was being robbed from him. It wasn’t enough that Robby had stolen months of his life, he had to take this, too? Miguel swallowed that acidity down, along with some of his boba.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We haven’t had a chance to talk about it before,” spoke up Mr. LaRusso, pulling Miguel’s reflections away from the ocean, “but I was sorry to hear things between you and Sam didn’t work out. Again. Although, from what she told me, it sounds like it was a mutual decision between you two this time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s cheeks heated. He chewed on the tapioca pearls in his mouth slowly. This would have been embarrassing to talk about with Sam’s dad in the best of situations. And he had no clue what information Sam had given her father as to the circumstances behind their breakup. “There was just a lot going on,” Miguel said after swallowing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso nodded like he understood. “Keeping up a relationship right now must be hard. You kids are under a lot of pressure lately. School. Karate. Drama from before you were even born. It can’t be easy handling all that on top of dating, I bet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It kinda is a lot to handle some days,” Miguel agreed, stirring his straw.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, who knows, maybe you two can give it another shot after the All-Valley,” suggested Mr. LaRusso before taking another sip of his drink.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Well, at least that confirmed Sam hadn’t outed him and Hawk to her father. But Miguel knew she wouldn’t. Sam was good about keeping her promises. “Actually, I’m seeing someone else right now,” he admitted. He left it at that. He and Hawk still hadn’t decided when they’d tell Sensei Lawrence, and Miguel wouldn’t risk him finding out through Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A small chuckle broke out of Mr. LaRusso. “That’s teen romance for you,” he remarked sardonically before taking another drink. “It’s okay, though, I won’t hold it against you this time.” Miguel suspected he wouldn’t be so magnanimous if he knew just how hard he’d broken Sam’s heart at the point leading to the breakup, because it sounded like Sam hadn’t been completely forthcoming.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He regretted yelling at her, not taking her feelings more into consideration. Circumstances bigger than the both of them had seeped into their happy bubble. They couldn’t simply go back to how things had been the first time they dated. That time had passed. They’d both hurt people to get back together, and they hadn’t been able to escape the consequences of that. Perhaps if they’d waited and given it more time before jumping back in, things would have turned out differently.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel knew he would never know that for sure, any more than he would know the reality of how his life would have gone if he hadn’t been kicked over that balcony.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso went on. “Well, regardless, at least you two have continued being the MVPs at the dojo. You’ve taken to the lessons so well. You haven’t let anything keep you down. And even more than that, you’ve helped make the transition easier for your friends. I can tell they really respect you.” He gave Miguel a reassuring smile. “You already know how proud Sensei Lawrence is of you, but I want you to know I’m proud of you, too, Miguel.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The corners of Miguel’s mouth curled as his skin warmed even more, this time in self-consciousness. “Thanks, Mr. LaRusso.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Miguel took another sip from his boba, the ringing of a phone grabbed both their attention. Mr. LaRusso retrieved his cell from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “It’s Sam, give me just a minute,” he told Miguel, bringing the phone to his ear and answering it. “Hey, honey….” Miguel furrowed his brows as he watched Mr. LaRusso’s smile dissolve in a flash. “Whoa, whoa! Sam, sweetheart, calm down. Tell me what’s wrong….”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. The Cut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel stood outside the room in the hallway, rubbing his hands together. Farther down the hall, he saw his mother, dressed in her nurse’s scrubs, still talking with the Moskowitzes, going over new x-rays. He’d tried listening in on their conversation earlier, even after the Moskowitzes had given him the okay to go and visit for a little while, but as soon as Miguel had stepped into the hospital it had felt like someone had slipped noise-canceling headphones over his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He could hear his own breathing, in and out, in and out. Everything else may as well have been muted. He dug this thumbnail against one of his knuckles, verifying he could at least still feel something, that he was present.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His first instinct was to tell his mom he had to leave. He’d already spent too much time in the hospital. He hated the washed-out walls. The smell of disinfectant made him want to lose his lunch. He’d spent weeks in the hellhole environment that had told him he wasn’t nearly as untouchable as he’d believed he was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All hospitals were good for was reminding people of their own mortality. And Miguel had more than gotten his fill of them. But he nevertheless fought that instinct to run. He was stronger than that, he reminded himself. He had to be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly, Miguel turned on his feet and entered Hawk’s room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“El Serpiente….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” Miguel returned. He didn’t know where his eyes should settle first as he lumbered his way over to Hawk’s bedside. On the sling Hawk had his right arm resting in? Or his left leg, laying elevated on top of the blanket, strapped into that long, black brace? Or his hair…?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam had told him what happened but he wasn’t prepared until he saw the damage for himself. The mohawk was gone. Hawk’s hair had been haphazardly cut by the cheap scissors, leaving behind messy strands of various lengths that needed evening-out bad, the only red dye remaining at the tips. It looked awful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Eight weeks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel blinked, bringing his attention down from Hawk’s hair to his face and trying to register what he’d just muttered to him. He still might as well have been submerged underwater for all the input he was getting. “What?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Keeping his eyes where his left hand was fumbling with the blanket, Hawk mumbled, “Tha-That’s what you were going to ask about, right? How long I have to wear the brace for? They told me eight weeks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel moved around the bed to Hawk’s left side, getting a better look at the leg. Even strapped into the brace, the knee was a swollen mess of purple and red and yellow discoloration, making Miguel’s stomach lurch again. And it was only by staring at the injury that the ramifications of Hawk’s words settled in. “Wait, eight weeks? That means….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk avoided his gaze, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. “It means you guys gotta win the All-Valley on your own,” he finished. “I’m out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s heart sank in his chest so fast it disoriented him. He had to pull up the nearby chair and sit in it so he didn’t sway on his feet. He knew he shouldn’t have cared about something so inconsequential in the moment. But he <em>did</em> care. This was his last under-eighteen All-Valley Tournament before aging out. It was supposed to be him and Hawk in the finals, ruining Kreese’s stupid plans, removing the threat of Cobra Kai from the Valley forever, and securing a complete victory for Eagle Fang. They were going to do it together.</p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p1">He didn’t know what to tell Hawk. What could he tell him? Empty platitudes about how he’d back on his feet and kicking ass in no time? Hawk wouldn’t want to hear that. Because he hadn’t wanted to hear that when he’d first woken up. Shit, he hadn’t even wanted to hear it after his surgery, when that at least became a possibility again. But what else did he have to offer?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry about that right now,” said Miguel, laying his hand over Hawk’s and giving it a squeeze. Forcing a small smile across his face, he tried assuring him, “Eight weeks isn’t so long. And there will be other tournaments. You’ll get another chance to try and take my champ title from me. If you got the stuff, that is.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What difference does it make?” Hawk finally looked up at him. “I tried, man. I gave the merged-dojos thing a shot. I tried listening to Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso. I wanted to do it the Eagle Fang way. I wanted to make things up to everybody. I really tried.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel grasped his hand tighter. “Hawk—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can I even call myself Hawk anymore?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The question caught Miguel off-guard. He didn’t understand. “Of…Of course you can.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk pulled his hand back. He reached it up to run through his hair once before digging the heel of his palm against his brow. “I couldn’t stop Robby,” he admitted, twisting his mouth in disdain. “I’m supposed to be tough and I let him do that. I tried to fix my mistake, but I wasn’t strong enough to stop Cobra Kai. And now I’ve made it worse, they’re going to win the Tournament and nobody is going to be able to stop them. I’m a loser! I’m always going to be a loser!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All of Hawk’s previous confidence and bravado had disappeared, along with his belief that they’d had what it took to win the All-Valley. He was falling apart.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, you’re not,” said Miguel, even though he suspected his reassurances wouldn’t get through to Hawk where he was at. He wrapped his fingers tenderly around the nape of Hawk’s neck and leaned in, as close to a hug as they could manage then.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He remained with Hawk for another twenty minutes, using up the full half-hour duration the Moskowitzes had allowed him, but nothing much else was said. Hawk was closed off, and Miguel knew from experience when that happened there wasn’t much anyone could say. But despite that understanding, it did nothing to stop him from feeling useless when he finally stood up and left the room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel hadn’t taken four steps outside the door before bumping into a lanky body that had been standing nearby. “Sorry, Demetri,” Miguel apologized. He must have recently arrived.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Smoothing his shirt, Demetri shrugged. “No harm, no foul.” Miguel watched his friend’s eyes turn to Hawk’s room. “How’s Eli?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel didn’t know how to answer that question. He wondered how people had answered that question for him when asking how he was after they visited him in the hospital. Because there was no possible way they could have known at the time. So he couldn’t presume to comprehend how Hawk was feeling right now, either.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s brows pinched in confusion. But then he rubbed his right elbow, and Miguel figured he understood what he meant by his silence. “I don’t get it,” admitted Demetri, shaking his head, bringing his hands up now to run through his hair. “Why’d he try taking on Cobra Kai by himself? He knows we would’ve had his back. That was so stupid! It’s that absurd macho bullshit that Sensei Lawrence rubbed off on him. Eli never used to go looking for fights before that guy got in his head.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel opened his mouth to say something but swallowed it down. Not only because he knew, deep down, that Demetri was only venting from distress and arguing about it wasn’t going to help, but also because Miguel couldn’t handle taking on any more at that moment. Everything was too heavy. His head was swimming. He needed to get some air.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just go keep him some company,” he muttered to Demetri, patting him once on the shoulder before trudging down the hallway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel glanced at the Moskowitzes as he entered the visitors’ area. They looked so worried, so worn out, like his mother and grandmother had been during his stay in the hospital. And when his mother saw him walking past them, she motioned for Hawk’s parents to give her a moment.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” she said, coming up to him. “How did it go?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I didn’t know what to say,” admitted Miguel. “I thought maybe, y’know, after everything that happened to me I’d know more than anyone what to say. But he’s upset, and I didn’t know what to tell him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I understand.” Carmen wrapped her hands over her son’s shoulders warmly. “How are <em>you</em> doing?” she asked softly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to tell her nobody needed to worry about him. He was fine. But all he could do at that moment was blink repeatedly, and when he tried moving his jaw to form words, he clenched it tighter instead, pressing his mouth in a thin line. He squinted his eyes shut and shook his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He felt his mother kiss his forehead. “It’s going to be okay, Miggy,” she promised him, hugging him tightly to her, running a gentle hand through his hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A few days passed and fugue gave way to desperation as Miguel racked his brain into action to figure out what the response to this should be. Especially when Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence canceled practice for the rest of that week. Maybe they were trying to fix things on their own? Surely they had to be if they would postpone training with only a little over a month left before the All-Valley, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had no clue. Their instructors left all of them in the dark for the time being. And he didn’t dare cross the apartment complex to go knock on Sensei Lawrence’s door and ask him what he was doing about it. Because what if Sensei blamed him?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It had kept him up a couple of nights that weekend. Miguel had laid in his bed, stomach twisted in knots, staring at his hard-earned championship trophy sitting on his desk. And he wondered, was it his fault? Should he have left his trophy behind in Cobra Kai after Robby made it clear taking it back would break the truce between their dojos?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All the previous joy he’d felt at getting it back evaporated as he was forced to ask himself, had it been worth it?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For months, Miguel had listened to Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso when they told them to stay clear of Cobra Kai, bending their rule only twice; once to handle Kyler, who’d provoked them first, and once to reach out to Tory, because he had owed it to her to try and apologize for hurting her. But other than that, Miguel had put his full trust in Sensei Lawrence, until he’d given him a reason not to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then he’d taken that risk. Maybe it had been a foolish one, but the trophy had been <em>his</em>. Cobra Kai had no right to keep it, and they had no right to put the blame on him for ending the truce. Just like they had no right to use him taking it back as an excuse to justify a fight with Hawk. Any excuse they come up with would have satisfied Sensei Kreese’s bloodlust.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wasn’t going to let Cobra Kai sink him into a chasm of guilt. So that Sunday night, he had pulled his phone out in his bed and sent a text to the group chat: <em>we gotta do something about CK, this can’t wait till the AVT anymore</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He told the group, in no uncertain terms, he wanted them to deal with Cobra Kai immediately. It awakened a cold pragmatism in him he hadn’t familiarized himself with for months, the same sort of cold cunning that had almost made him a winner at Coyote Creek. It was coming back to him clear as day when he texted the group his thoughts on retaliation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Get Cobra Kai before they got them. No point in waiting for the Tournament. They all knew they had targets on their backs. And if Cobra Kai could beat Hawk, they could beat any of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After receiving a few texts back from the chat indicating hesitation on the part of some of the team, Miguel suggested a meeting that Tuesday evening. Mitch volunteered his house to meet up at, since his parents were going to be out late that night. So they packed together in his living room, where Miguel would present his plan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Where’s Sam?” asked Nate, shoving Bert out of his space on the couch they were sharing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rolled his shoulders. “Guess she’s not coming.” He honestly thought she would be. This would be just as much her chance to end things as it would be his, and wasn’t that what she wanted? But then, she had been distant ever since that day. Like she was avoiding him. He didn’t have to guess why. Sam had broken the pact, the very pact she’d made everyone agree to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We shouldn’t make any big decision without Sam here,” said Chris. “And maybe we should hold off doing anything at all until we find out how Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence have been handling it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>If they’ve been handling it</em>, thought Miguel. What he said out loud, however, was, “Unless I hear they kicked Kreese out of the Valley, then we know they’re going to say the same thing they always have, to just wait until the Tournament to end this war with Cobra Kai. But why wait? Why play this stupid game any longer?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the couch he and Chris were sitting on, Mitch declared, “I agree, we should take the fight to them. Miguel’s right, I mean, why wait around like a bunch of sitting ducks until the All-Valley? We all know they’re not gonna stop at Hawk, they’ll come after the rest of us, too. Let’s hit them back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaning forward in the recliner beside the couch, Demetri frowned at Mitch’s assent. “Do you ever think for yourself, or are you such a people-pleaser you’ll go with whatever Eagle Fang does?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert glared at Demetri. “At least we’re not sitting on our butts and doing nothing like a bunch of pansy-ass nerds,” he threw back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate gave Bert’s shoulder another harsh shove, telling him, “Eat a dick, shithead, you’re literally sitting on your ass right now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel was about to tell them all to shut it, but Chris cut in first.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel, this isn’t like your plan to get your trophy back,” Chris argued, looking over at the leader of Eagle Fang where he stood near the fireplace. “I was down for that, even if I had my reservations about it, because at least the plan then was to get in and out without a fight. It wasn’t to launch a full-scale attack against a whole dojo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We don’t have to fight them all at once,” retorted Miguel. “We can group up and take them out, one-by-one. They might travel in packs, too, but they can’t watch each other’s backs all the time any more than we can. We’ll track them down, follow them home from school or the dojo if we have to, and put them out of the Tournament.” He’d track Robby down himself and do what he should have done that day of the school fight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Miyagi-Dos all stared at him with wide eyes. Even Bert looked a little shocked. The only one in the group who kept an eager expression was Mitch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shook his head, telling Miguel, “That’s not how we fight in Miyagi-Do, man. That’s not very honorable. Look, I’m not happy about what happened to Hawk, either, and I get why you want to do something about it, but I left Cobra Kai so I wouldn’t have to do stuff like that anymore.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you’d rather wait for the Tournament?” interrogated Miguel, a rough edge lining his voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“At least at a tournament, there are rules,” said Demetri. “It’s all point-based. None of this street fight savagery.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel's fists squeezed by his sides. “And what’s gonna happen if we lose at the Tournament, huh?” he snapped. “You ever think about that? What if I get knocked out before the finals? Are <em>you</em> going to beat Robby? What’s your plan if Cobra Kai wins and Kreese forces Miyagi-Do to shut down? We should take them out now!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what do you mean by ‘take them out’?” demanded Demetri heatedly, gripping the armrests of his chair. When Miguel didn’t have an immediate answer, Demetri rolled his eyes and filled in the gaps for him. “Bust their kneecaps, too? Break their arms? If we start sending people to the hospital then we’re no better than those guys. And here I thought Eagle Fang got rid of that ‘no mercy’ sadism. I can’t believe you, out of everyone, would even suggest that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, but said nothing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, Mitch shook his head at Demetri with a disgusted scoff. “You know, at least Hawk went down like a badass fighting in a five-on-one match. Meanwhile, you’re so busy shitting your pants worrying about taking on one Cobra at a time, you don’t even care about getting them back for what they did to him. I thought you were supposed to be his best friend. Once a pussy, always a pussy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Up yours, douchebag!” screamed Demetri, leaping out of his chair to throw himself at Mitch. The two scuffled, tussling so bad they fell off the couch and onto the floor. Demetri punched Mitch across the jaw while the other boy gripped the collar of Demetri’s flannel and pulled him into a headbutt, both gritting their teeth and scowling in each other’s faces.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Bert and Nate gawked at their teammates, glancing at each other like they didn’t know what to do about it, Miguel flexed his fists again. He wanted to make a move to stop them. This was ridiculous. They couldn’t afford to be fighting with each other anymore. “Cut it out!” he shouted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But it was Chris who acted, jumping in and pulling Demetri off Mitch. “Calm down, Met!” he told his friend, keeping his arms around Demetri’s until he took another few calming breaths. Jutting his chin out, Chris added, “Back off, Mitch,” when it looked like his other friend wanted to go another round after he stood up on his feet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Silence descended on the room for a few minutes, letting the high emotions linger like a thick fog between them. Nate and Bert sat watching from their couch. Mitch glared at Demetri, opening and closing his fists at his sides. Demetri ignored him, rubbing his hands down his weary face in frustration. Chris stood between the two of them but looked to Miguel for what his response would be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Pings went off from multiple phones before Miguel could think about what to say next. Bert pulled his cell out of his hoodie pocket. “Hey, Sam just sent a text,” he announced. “She says she’s at the door.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat. So, Sam <em>was</em> showing up to help devise a new plan with them. Maybe she would be able to talk her teammates into agreeing that they needed to be more proactive, that they needed to make a collective strike against Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll go let her in,” said Mitch, leaving the living room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They all waited, still saying nothing. Miguel felt all their eyes fall on him. Miyagi-Dos, Eagle Fangs, he digested all their stares. And he remembered what Mr. LaRusso had told him that day, that he was proud of him for being a leader to his team because they respected him so much. Would a good leader do what he was doing now?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch came back inside and his cheeks were pale, which made Miguel furrow his brows while he waited for Sam to come in, too. Following behind Mitch wasn’t Sam, however.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was Sensei Lawrence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The entire room remained deathly silent again at the sight of their karate instructor as he stood there, imposingly sweeping his eyes over the lot of them. He pulled his face tight, like he was checking his temper. That look alone told Miguel that Sensei must have known what they’d been up to. “What do you guys think you’re doing?” he demanded.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel caught movement over at the door frame when someone else stepped inside the living room. This time it was Sam. And it sunk in for Miguel, like an anchor dropped in his stomach: Sam had told Sensei Lawrence what was going on, she’d gone to get him so he would put a stop to this. Just like she did that day at the dojo, when he and Hawk had their serious spar.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He wouldn’t let that deter him, he decided. He had nothing to hide. Squaring his shoulders back, he told Sensei Lawrence, “We’re not waiting for the All-Valley to deal with Cobra Kai anymore.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, you’re not, huh?” asked Sensei Lawrence, knitting his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose. “So, what’s your plan?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We bring the fight to them,” answered Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence shrugged. “And what if you lose?” he asked, his tone stern and inflexible. “You wanna just throw all your hard work from these past few months away? Are you ready to gamble landing yourself back in the hospital? Or any of these other guys, too? What happened to Hawk wasn’t enough? You wanna take that chance, this close to the Tournament? Or do you wanna finally listen to me and Mr. LaRusso?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s mouth contorted in a scowl as the blood began rushing under his skin, heating it up. And before he could stop himself, he let out, “It’s your fault this happened in the first place!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence narrowed his eyes. The lines around his mouth creased and his voice dropped to a low timbre when he said, “Diaz, outside. The rest of you, stay here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The others raised no objections, and Sensei Lawrence walked out of the room and back the way he came towards the front door. Miguel sighed, grinding his teeth in frustration. But then he started after him, pausing only for a moment when he crossed by Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She looked away. And all he could think to ask her was, “Why would you do that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wrapping her hands over her elbows, almost like she was shivering, Sam said, “Because I’m not going to let you do something you’ll regret. You’re not thinking straight right now, and I won’t stand by and do nothing while you get yourself hurt, too. Or the others. You can hate me for that, if you want. But that’s why.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel didn’t want to admit she was right. He wasn’t prepared to concede that his plan was half-assed and there was no guarantee of victory. Could he live with himself if one of the others got hurt on account of his hasty decision? And even if there was a guaranteed win, even if they listened to him and picked off the Cobras one at a time in an unfair fight, that didn’t stop it from being dishonorable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t want to admit he was falling into the same trap Hawk had when he’d been the one hurt: that spiraling, obsessive quest for revenge.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Miguel didn’t. Keeping a firm silence, he walked past Sam and followed Sensei Lawrence’s path outside.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was there on the porch waiting for him, arms crossed and poised for a harsh reprimand. “What the hell are you thinking, trying to go after Cobra Kai on your own?” challenged Sensei Lawrence, staring at him with disappointment clear on his face. “Haven’t you learned by now? Kreese is dangerous, this isn’t a game. And getting your friends involved in this boneheaded scheme, too? I taught you better than this. What’s gotten into—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Quiet!” shouted Miguel. His skin was on fire, and his nostrils started to flare from the deep breaths he was taking now. “God, just shut up! You’re gonna stand there and tell me this isn’t a game, while you and Mr. LaRusso are the ones who agreed to pit us against Cobra Kai at the All-Valley Tournament in the first place!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His anger came pouring out. He was mad now. Who were Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso to agree to those terms, especially after seeing for themselves what Kreese was capable of spurring his students to do at Sam’s house last December? Who were they to turn him and his friends into game pieces in their personal feud against Kreese?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s eyes widened. “It was to get the Cobras off your backs until—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Until what?” demanded Miguel, cutting him off. “Until you figure out what to do about Robby? Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You refuse to do anything about Robby and so you won’t let us do anything either. You’re his fucking dad! Why don’t you just drag him out of the dojo? That’s what my mom would’ve done to me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He must have struck a nerve because Sensei Lawrence masked his surprise behind a frown. He lifted his pointer finger, jabbing it dangerously close to Miguel’s chest. “Now you listen to me—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel interrupted again. “No, you listen! None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t walked away from Cobra Kai! <em>You’re</em> the one who let Kreese into the dojo! <em>You’re</em> the one who stood by and did nothing about him taking it over! You’ve had plenty of opportunities to deal with him but you won’t do anything about it! All you do is keep telling us to trust you and expect us to do all the work and win the All-Valley, because you’re actually trusting Kreese will just walk away if he loses. Why? You think that’s the only way to get Robby away from him? Do you <em>really</em> think Kreese is going to keep his promise? Look at what he did to Hawk! It’s been almost a week, have you even gone to see him? Do you even care?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The words kept pouring from his mouth while Sensei Lawrence stood there and took them. And the more they flowed, the more the anger and frustration that fueled them chiseled away, revealing grief as the real source.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence had no clue why this cut as deep as it did, and Miguel couldn’t even tell him. Because Hawk had asked him not to, because he had been worried Sensei Lawrence wouldn’t understand. And, for the first time, Miguel felt that doubt himself. Doubt that this man, whom he had come to see as the closest thing he had to a father, could understand this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s veneer cracked as he accepted that it wasn’t even revenge he desired. All he wanted was for the war to stop, for karate to be fun liked it used to be, for his life to finally stabilize so he could go back to enjoying it again. He was worn out, all the way to his bones.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d been blinking rapidly without realizing it, and suddenly his cheeks were wet. And Miguel didn’t fight it anymore as his hard breathing erupted into sobs. And as he cried, arms wrapped themselves around him. Sensei Lawrence pulled him into a hug, just as his mother had in the hospital. Miguel didn’t stop him, even though he guessed he probably should have. But right then, all he did was cry harder, burying his face in his Sensei’s shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know you’ve been mad at me lately, and that’s fine,” he heard Sensei Lawrence mutter by his ear. “But don’t give up on me, yet, kid.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Helpless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">As soon as his parents took him home, Eli decided didn’t want to leave the house again for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t out of fear. He wasn’t worried about Cobra Kai coming after him again. There would be no point, after all. They’d sent their message, loud and clear.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was because he didn’t want anyone else to see that message, to see him like this, what he was really like under his mask. He didn’t want the other guys to know who it was who had been hiding behind the Hawk all along. The visits in the hospital from Miguel and Demetri were hard enough to get through.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On the first day back, his father gave him a better haircut, evening out the mess Robby’s scissors left behind. Even after that, however, Eli avoided his bathroom mirror as best he could. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing who would be staring in his reflection back at him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It hadn’t taken much begging on his part to convince his parents to let him do schoolwork at home for a couple of weeks. He figured they also would have been happy if he never went out again. And after a week and a half, he was at least able to use his right arm well enough that he could take the sling off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel tried visiting him the day after he came home, but Eli told his parents he didn’t want visitors for a while. He said the same thing when Demetri had knocked on their door the next day. They at least seemed cool about it. Miguel had texted him: <em>call me whenever ur up for it</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli didn’t know when he would be up for it, which only fueled his self-disgust all the more. How much of a loser could he possibly be to avoid Miguel of all people, who would only be trying to help him? But he didn’t want to talk about any of it. And for days, he barely said two words to his parents when they came to help him get around and take care of him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Why did it have to be his hair? He would take the fractured kneecap, but why cut his hair? Eli could only wonder about it the longer he sat in his bed, sometimes bringing up a hand to run his fingers through his short hair before pulling it away when his arm started shaking.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All the self-pity he’d been holding in for months released like a torrent as Eli decided it was a good thing he’d lost his fight. Maybe he’d gotten exactly what he deserved. Maybe the Hawk didn’t deserve to exist anymore at all, after everything he had done. Maybe Cobra Kai had done the world a favor. Wasn’t that what everyone else was probably thinking in secret?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then self-pity morphed into shame and guilt as he thought about how he’d let everyone in Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do down. Why hadn’t he listened and waited until the All-Valley Tournament to fight the Cobras? Now Miguel would have to face Robby alone. And what would happen if Miguel lost to Robby a second time? How could he do that to Miguel?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But what could he do about it now? What could he say to make it up to all of them? What could he do except lay in his bed and either watch television or stare out the window?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a week at home, he got a text from Mitch: <em>sup dude, back at practice now, EF is gonna be ready to kick CK ass @ the AVT</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli supposed Mitch meant it as an encouragement, that his fellow Eagle Fangs were prepared to power forward and take on the Cobras despite the odds stacked against them, but he left it on read.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Later that day, Bert tagged him on an Instagram post. “Nailed the high kick today,” he’d said, posting a video of him punting Nate across the face with the move Hawk had been spending weeks helping him learn.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli had hovered his thumb over liking the post. Even that menial task felt insurmountable. Because he wasn’t the same guy who’d taught Bert that move. That guy had been untouchable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But him? All those karate skills, all that raw power he’d honed, and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening. He’d been as helpless as he’d ever been before joining Cobra Kai. It was like none of the training had mattered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So Eli tossed his phone on his nightstand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A couple more days passed and he started to fret, the stir-craziness kicking in. Isolation wasn’t bringing the reprieve he hoped it would. And Eli remembered how he used to be able to take off and ride down any road he chose to escape from his problems for a few hours. He thought about zooming down The Snake, missing that familiar rush of exhilaration. But now he didn’t even have that option. He wouldn’t be able to ride his motorcycle for many more weeks. Cobra Kai had taken even that little relief from him, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then, one evening, Chris sent him a text: <em>hey man, I hope your knee feels better soon</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That surprised him. As did the text from Nate the next day: <em>u suck for showing that dickhead how to kick like that, I’m gonna kick ur ass when u come back</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli had snorted at that, the shadow of a smile curling at the corners of his mouth for the first time since his brawl with Cobra Kai, but seeing the messages from the Miyagi-Dos clenched his gut. How could they feel sorry for him or hope to see him back at the dojo after what he’d done to all of them? He hadn’t made it up, yet, and he’d lost his fight to Cobra Kai trying. Why would they miss Hawk?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What should he tell them? Sorry seemed redundant. He’d been sorry for months, what did it mean anymore? Was saying something better than saying nothing at all, though?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t know. So Eli ignored their messages, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel jolted awake in his bed. He laid there catching his breath in the dark, sparing a glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand to see it was only 1:17 AM. Bringing up a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, he then rolled over on his side in an attempt to fall back asleep. His eyes stared at his dark wall instead of the backs of his eyelids, however, when he felt the sudden need to go to the bathroom. Unable to ignore his bladder, Miguel got up out of his bed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After taking care of his business, letting out a big yawn as he turned the bathroom light off behind him, he was awake enough then to notice a light coming from the living room. He went to investigate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He found his Ya-Ya reclining on the couch, holding the book she was reading in one hand, nursing a glass of rum-and-coke in the other.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ya-Ya, what are you doing up?” he asked in Spanish, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After swallowing a sip of her drink, Rosa replied back in Spanish, “Got back late from Camila’s and I couldn’t sleep. Pour yourself a drink and join me for a few minutes.” She grinned at him playfully and wagged a finger at him. “And I mean a glass of juice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel snorted, walking into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of orange juice before sitting down on the couch next to his grandma.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, what woke you up?” Rosa asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Had a weird dream,” answered Miguel, drinking some of his juice. “In it, I was waking up back in the hospital and tomorrow was supposed to be the All-Valley Tournament. And obviously I wasn’t ready. It was like the past eight months never happened. All I could think about was that Cobra Kai was going to win and I’d let everyone down.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rosa pinched her brows together as she sipped from her rum. “Good thing it was just a dream then,” she remarked, setting her book down to pat him on his knee. “Everyone can see how hard you’ve been training. You’re going to do great at the Tournament.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I guess,” Miguel mumbled, staring blankly down at his feet, feeling the coldness of the glass against his palms. Pushing the dream to the back of his head, he said, “I’ve also been having trouble sleeping because I’m getting worried about Hawk. I texted him to let him know he could call me, but he hasn’t. Demetri said he isn’t returning his texts, either. I feel like there’s more I should be able to do, but I don’t know what.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His Ya-Ya’s face softened. “You feel helpless, yes?” Miguel nodded. “Your mother and I felt the same after we heard what happened to you at the school. And for the two weeks you were in a coma, your mother was inconsolable. She got better when you came home, when your Sensei started training you again. But we both knew that even though your legs were getting stronger, you were still very much alone. And we knew the company we could give you wasn’t all that you needed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel admitted, “It felt like everyone else was going on with their life without me. I remember being angry and frustrated about it, at them, at me. And it was like, I wanted to be alone but I <em>didn’t</em> want to be alone, either. I guess that doesn’t make any sense.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It makes perfect sense,” his grandma assured him. “But I think, more than being angry, you were sad. For a long time there, you were much sadder than your mother and I could ever remember. If we’re being honest, I was beginning to worry you’d never be happy again. So I was glad when you started your karate after getting back on your feet. It’s always brought you joy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel thought again of the trophy in his room, how happy he had been to get it back. Because it had represented a better time. His grandmother was right, he loved karate. And he clung to the hope that those better times would return soon.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But how could it help him now? “Hawk told me he has to wear the leg brace for eight weeks,” he explained. “He can’t do any karate in the meantime.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Does him wearing it stop him from hanging out with the rest of you?” asked his Ya-Ya.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“His parents said he doesn’t want to see anybody,” said Miguel. “And, like I said, he hasn’t called me back, yet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Then call him yourself,” suggested Rosa.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And say what?” asked Miguel, his voice cracking on the last word. “What can I say that’ll make all this better? What can I do?” He couldn’t retaliate. He’d been ashamed of his previous anger because it had been useless to do anything meaningful. He could hate Robby and Kreese and Cobra Kai all he wanted, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t know what to do about it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re a sweet boy, Miggy,” remarked Rosa, patting his cheek affectionately. “I know you want all the answers, you want to act like a responsible man. And I know you’ll be a good man here soon enough. But don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Enjoy the time you have left as a kid. Besides, being an adult sucks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel surprised himself when a chuckle broke out of him. “It can’t be worse than being a teenager,” he argued.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His Ya-Ya grinned. “That’s true. At least we adults get to drink alcohol. <em>Legally</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She raised her rum-and-coke for a toast. Miguel clinked his glass of juice against it, and they both drank to that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After finishing his drink and dropping the glass off in the sink, Miguel returned to his bedroom and laid back down in his bed. Turning his head on the pillow, he stared at his cellphone where it rested charging on his nightstand. Flitting his eyes over to the alarm clock to see it was now 2:03 AM, he at first told himself not to do what he was thinking about doing, before doing it anyway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Grabbing his phone, he didn’t bother with a text this time. He called. And his heart jumped when he heard the voice answer on the other end. “Miguel?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” returned Miguel. “Did I wake you up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He let out a soft laugh. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not really.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His boyfriend’s words were short, half-mumbled into the phone. They lacked that energy and zest for life Miguel had come to associate with that voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded like that. But at least he was hearing his voice again. At the moment, that was all that mattered to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sorry for what?” asked Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“For thinking revenge would actually help you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Two weeks after the incident, Eli’s mother came into his room to say he had another visitor. He’d been about to tell her he still wasn’t interested in seeing anyone until she revealed that it was Sensei Lawrence who’d shown up at their door. And a lump formed in Eli’s throat at the sound of that name as his mind raced with a dozen reasons to figure out why Sensei was there. Sensei Lawrence had never come to his house before.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay,” he’d told his mother. “I’ll talk to him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The look on his mother’s face when she announced his arrival suggested she didn’t want to let Sensei Lawrence into their house. Maybe she’d even been hoping he’d provide her an excuse to tell him to beat it, as if she needed an excuse. But Eli watched her expression then light up in a bit of hope. He imagined because it had probably hurt her more to see him so down since the fight, and any interaction with another person at this point was better than the seclusion he’d imposed on himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence stepped into his bedroom, waiting until his mom left down the hallway before really looking over at him. Eli felt his Sensei’s eyes lingering on his hair before they settled down on the leg in its brace propped on a pillow in his bed. And for a few seconds, his teacher stood there frozen like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence shook his head, like he was clearing brain fog. Then, in his usual blustering tone, he said, “C’mon, what are you doing just lying around? Didn’t the others send you a message on your smartphone? Double-practice today and every weekend until the All-Valley. You’re holding everyone up. So get up, grab your crutches, and let’s get going.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli simply stared at Sensei Lawrence for a long moment before stating, “Screw you.” He turned his attention back to the television, even turning up the volume to make it clear he had no interest in continuing this discussion. He ought to have known Sensei was only there to make fun of him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Sensei Lawrence showed no interest in leaving. When Eli spared another glance at him, he saw Sensei Lawrence’s mouth twitch, and he thought the man was about to tread over to his bed and get in his face like the last time he’d so openly disrespected him, like he did at the school.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But instead, Sensei Lawrence remained where he was standing. “I mean, I know you’re not gonna be doing any real karate with that brace on, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to sit on your ass and do nothing. I didn’t accept any excuses from Miguel, so you’re not getting off easy, either.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I’m not Miguel,” he retorted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He heard Sensei Lawrence mutter, “Ain’t that the truth.” Sensei Lawrence shook his head again, running a hand down his face like he was reaching the end of his patience. “So what, that’s it? You’re giving up over a busted knee? Y’know, LaRusso told me your mouthy friend—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri,” corrected Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I hear even he didn’t give up on his lessons after you snapped that bone in his arm in half,” Sensei Lawrence pointed out. “And you’re gonna sit there and tell me you’re not as tough as Demetri?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess I’m just not badass enough for your dojo,” remarked Eli, hating how self-pitying the words sounded coming out of his mouth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence gave him a hard look. He opened and closed his mouth twice like he was trying to find what he wanted to say, before settling on, “Is this because of your hair getting hacked off? Man up, Hawk, it’ll grow back.” The man had to duck fast to avoid the remote Eli chucked at his head after that remark. “What the hell’s your problem?!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli answered with his own question. “Why are you still calling me Hawk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shrugging like the question was stupid, Sensei Lawrence asked him back, “That’s your name, isn’t it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli furrowed his brows. “You don’t know my actual name, do you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s eyes widened, appearing caught off-guard by that particular question. “Uh, yeah, duh, it’s Moskowitz.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I mean my first name,” said Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His Sensei’s eyes flitted like he was thinking hard on it, but all he came up with was another deflection. “First Mitch, now you? What’s with this sensitivity all of a sudden? Maybe you guys have been spending too much time around LaRusso. I thought you liked being called Hawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I did. I mean, I do. I mean….” He’d loved his nickname so much that it had taken over his whole identity. So he supposed he couldn’t be too cross with Sensei for not knowing his name. He’d spent so long trying to forget it himself because Hawk had been everything he thought he never could be. Confident. Strong. Fearless. But he wasn’t any of those things anymore. “How can I still call myself that? Robby cut off my mohawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You think all that mattered was the mohawk?” asked Sensei Lawrence, his eyebrows pinched together, driving a deep crease between them as he glared at Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli’s eyes darted, unable to stand the way Sensei was scrutinizing him now. For a second, he raised his hand on instinct to hover near his upper lip, before forcing it back down. “Well, yeah,” he answered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He thought he heard Sensei Lawrence swallow hard before he asked, “Yeah? Who told you that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You did. You said the only way people were going to leave me alone about my lip was if I flipped the script,” argued Eli, balling his fists on his lap. “You said it didn’t matter how much of a loser I was so long as I became badass. And I tried. I stopped watching nerd shit and I got rid of all my geeky stuff. I listened to everything you told me, but I guess I didn’t do it right because everything I do pisses you off. I guess I just don’t get it. I don’t know what you want from me. You said you made me what I am, so tell me, Sensei, what should I do?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence frowned. But it was a soft frown. “Look, if LaRusso was here, he’d be able to give you this big speech about how karate is supposed to teach you balance and all that shit,” he said. “To be honest, he’s been hounding my ass about it ever since we struck up this partnership. Balance this, balance that. And yeah, maybe he’s got a point. I mean, don’t tell him I told you this, but he’s better at those kinds of motivational speeches than I am. And if that’s what you want to hear, you’re gonna have to talk to him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli’s fists uncurled in his lap, and he started fidgeting with his fingers. “Actually, he said I should talk to you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He did, huh?” asked Sensei Lawrence. Eli nodded. “Yeah, that tracks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence sighed, reaching a hand around to rub the back of his neck. He looked about as comfortable with the idea of a talk as Eli felt about it. Was it so much to ask from Sensei for a little understanding?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know how birds need two wings to fly, right?” asked Sensei Lawrence. Eli just stared at him. “You ever see an eagle when one of its wings is broken? I saw it on one of those nature docs. Y’know, there was nothing else on and I was trying to find something to fall asleep to. Anyway, you wanna talk about being pissed off, you should’ve seen this bird. Attacked everything that came near it, even the people trying to help it, because all it knew was that with one of its wings broken, it was off-balance, it couldn’t fly.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So it was helpless,” concluded Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Didn’t you hear me?” Sensei Lawrence retorted. “I said this eagle was biting people’s heads off. It was probably more dangerous on the ground than it was in the sky.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Trying to wrap his head around the metaphor Sensei Lawrence was making, Eli asked, “My busted knee is like a broken wing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence gave him a long look, his hardened expression dulling in what might have been guilt. “I think you’re one big broken wing, and it sounds like I’m the one that broke it. And if we’re ever gonna get you flying again, I’m gonna have to fix it. That is, if you’ll let me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a few seconds, Eli was silent. “I can’t fight in the All-Valley.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know,” said Sensei Lawrence, his eyes narrowing as they stared at the brace on Eli’s leg. “But that’s not what I’m gonna have you working on. We’re gonna find other things for you to do at the dojo, alright? And as for the hair, well….” Sensei Lawrence paused and reached behind him to grab something from his back pocket, tossing it on Eli’s lap. It was a black baseball cap, with the Eagle Fang logo stitched on the front. “If you’re that embarrassed, you can do some free advertising for the dojo until it grows back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s words were facile, but Eli figured his teacher must have put more thought into how much losing his mohawk meant to him if he brought the hat with him in the first place. Maybe Sensei was more understanding than his words let on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking the cap in his hands, running his fingers over the logo of the Eagle, Eli looked up at his Sensei and told him, “My name’s Eli, by the way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence asked, “Is that what you want me to call you now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Throwing his thumb over his shoulder, Sensei Lawrence tilted his head towards the door. “Well, while you figure it out, what do you say about finally heading to practice?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He would have to face all his friends again, but maybe it was time. He couldn’t hide in his room anymore. He still had work to do to atone for everything he’d done in the past. A busted knee wasn’t going to put an end to him trying.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli stared at the hat in his hands again before donning it backward on his head. “Yes, Sensei,” he agreed. Shifting himself on the bed, reaching over to grab the crutches that were resting against the wall nearby, he explained to his Sensei, “I’ll need to tell my parents first, though. They’re in Overprotective Mode. You’ll probably have to convince them I’ll be safe at the dojo until my leg’s better.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You didn’t tell them how I helped Miguel get back on his feet?” asked Sensei Lawrence, sounding almost offended. “And with you, I won’t even have to worry about setting your leg on fire.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Slipping the crutches’ cuffs up his forearms, Eli blinked up at him. “What?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence waved his hand. “Nothing. Yeah, let’s go talk to your parents.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaning on his crutches while he stood up, Eli asked, “Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Why did you let me join Eagle Fang? Why are you here now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s brows knitted in discomfort again. “We all screw up, kid. I mean, yeah, I was pretty pissed off at you for joining Kreese, you called that, but lately I was reminded that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have even known the guy. As for why I’m here trying to get your ass back in gear right now? It’s because badass birds of prey like eagles, like <em>hawks</em>, belong up in the sky. Much easier to spot snakes from up there.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Grow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso set him up a table and chair under the shaded tree and presented him with a pair of clippers, along with a few potted bonsai plants. Eli glanced at Sensei Lawrence, almost like he expected his teacher to rescue him from this lesson. Sensei Lawrence hadn’t seemed particularly impressed by Mr. LaRusso’s suggestion.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you sure about this?” Sensei asked his co-teacher. “I was thinking he should stick with the others while we—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Johnny.” Mr. LaRusso raised his eyebrows, giving him a beleaguered stare. “Trust me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence opened his mouth like he was about to raise an objection. Eli hoped he would because he didn’t want to spend that day gardening. But instead, Sensei nodded. “Do what Mr. LaRusso tells you,” he said, leaving Eli at the table with his bonsais to go over and supervise the sparring session. Judging by his expression, Mr. LaRusso looked surprised by his easy cooperation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli’s shoulders slumped. Sensei Lawrence had pawned him off on Mr. LaRusso. He felt tricked. “What if I mess them up?” he asked with a dismissive hope that that would convince the instructor of Miyagi-Do to drop the whole plan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’ll do fine,” promised Mr. LaRusso.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli’s eyes dropped to the brace on his leg, where he had it elevated on a box that had been provided for him. He changed his tactic. “Did Sam tell you?” he asked, a curtness coming over his tone. “I’m the one who wrecked your dojo last summer. And I stole Mr. Miyagi’s medal.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He looked up again to watch Mr. LaRusso’s expression. He wasn’t surprised by the hard lines around the man’s mouth, the way it was so obvious he was holding something in while he continued to stare at him. That was what he wanted. <em>Good</em>, he thought. Kick him out. End the farce already.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso sighed. “Yeah, Sam told me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And you still trust me to touch your little trees?” asked Eli, narrowing his eyes. “Just go ahead and write me off. Kick me out of the dojo. I won’t blame you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like that’s what you want me to do,” replied Mr. LaRusso, reading him like an open book. “But I’ve already made that mistake once, with another student. Look, I won’t stand here and tell you I wasn’t upset to hear the news, but Sam also told me you apologized. And we already got the medal back and the dojo cleaned up long ago. So how about we focus on the now? Because right now, I need you to trim the bonsais. We know you can destroy things. Let’s see if you can help them grow. So make careful cuts, not too big.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Giving him a couple of pats on the shoulder, Mr. LaRusso flashed him a small smile and walked away to join Sensei Lawrence where he stood with the rest of the students as they started getting ready.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli shifted uncomfortably in his seat. So, Sam had told her father he apologized for it? For as furious as she’d been after he confessed to the misdeeds, he assumed she would take the first opportunity to get her dad to boot him out of the dojo for good. She’d never liked his presence there and he’d given her a golden opportunity to be rid of him forever.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He glanced over at the group, at Sam, who was busy talking to Chris. She caught him looking and turned her eyes away. Was it fair to still assume the worst in her? She’d been so upset when she found him behind the 7-Eleven after the Cobras had taken off. She’d been the one to call her dad for help.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli was pulled from those thoughts when he saw someone walking up to him. His breath caught in the back of his throat. “Miguel….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey!” Miguel greeted him, a relieved grin on his face, crouching down to get at eye-level with him next to his seat. He pulled him into a quick bro-hug, the best they could manage while he was sitting down. “It’s great to see you here!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Same,” said Eli. It was so good to see Miguel again, to see his familiar warm features, his understanding brown eyes, his cheesy grin. Why had he holed himself in his room for so long? Eli wanted to throw himself off his chair, take Miguel’s face in his hands, and kiss him. He couldn’t, however. The brace made it impossible to throw himself off of anything. And Sensei Lawrence was present, tempering his enthusiasm with the knowledge that Sensei still didn’t know. Because of him, Sensei didn’t know.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Cool hat,” Miguel remarked, gesturing to the cap on his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli let out a breathy chuckle, adjusting it self-consciously. Glancing over Miguel’s shoulder, he could see all the other guys looking his way now, too. What must have they been thinking when they saw him enter the dojo without his signature mohawk? And what were they staring at now? “Sensei said I should plug some merch for a while,” he tried joking, although his energy wasn’t up for it, making it land flat to his own ears.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Diaz, get over here!” came Sensei Lawrence’s command. “Everyone, line up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed, almost like he’d forgotten where he was, that it wasn’t just the two of them there in the backyard. “We can talk more, after practice?” he asked, giving Eli’s shoulder a squeeze.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing up straight, Miguel turned around to make his way back to the group. Glancing back once to notice Hawk watching him, he gave him another reassuring smile. Hawk looked like he was trying to return it, but the expression that showed up was a muted version of what only might charitably be called a smile.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel understood. Hawk wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to sit around while everyone else was practicing. He imagined he himself must have been wearing the same expression frequently when he’d been stuck in bed or his wheelchair and could only watch in jealousy the videos Hawk and the other guys posted on their Instagrams of them busy at their lessons. Trimming bonsais wasn’t going to be a fulfilling substitute, no matter what the Miyagi-Dos said, but it was still better for Hawk that he was here now, around his friends.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, everyone, in case you haven’t been counting, we only have a month left until the All-Valley,” explained Sensei Lawrence. “So, let’s make these last few weeks count.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do you think we’ll have to worry about Cobra Kai between now and the Tournament?” asked Sam, eyeing Miguel once as he stepped up between her and Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The only factor working in our favor right now is that Kreese and Silver likely won’t want to be risking their own students’ safety between now and the All-Valley,” explained Mr. LaRusso. “Sounds like some of them took quite a beating during their last fight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch elbowed Chris. “Told you Hawk wiped the floor with them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence collaborated, “Yeah, I’m hearing Nichols is nursing some cracked ribs, and Rickenberger’s got a broken nose. Not that Kreese cares. When I went to go call out his ass for sending his kids to jump Hawk, he didn’t seem all that worried about his other students. He’s put all his bets on Robby to win.” A stoic tension came over his face at admitting that last part.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shifted on his feet, biting down on his bottom lip. Sensei Lawrence was leaving a few things left unsaid. That Tory might as well have been collateral damage to Sensei Kreese and Mr. Silver. That while they’d only encouraged her quest for revenge to send a message to what happened to traitors, their real mission was to knock Hawk out of the All-Valley Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because what they really wanted to see was Robby go up against him, the previous year’s champion. They wanted to see Sensei’s son beat his star student. That was what all of this was leading to: Robby versus Miguel. They’d risk Tory getting hurt with only a month to recover and put Hawk out of commission to guarantee that match came to fruition.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You can’t win a Tournament with just one student though, can you?” asked Nate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam reminded him, “Robby almost won the All-Valley last year. He made it all the way to the finals fighting unaffiliated until Dad had him join Miyagi-Do during the last round. And my Dad won both of his All-Valleys as Mr. Miyagi’s <em>only</em> student. So, yes, it’s entirely possible. Sometimes one student makes all the difference.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso continued, “I’d still be cautious, all of you. In the meantime, continue to keep together, be safe, and be aware.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But as for today’s lesson,” said Sensei Lawrence, stepping forward, “you guys are gonna be the Senseis for once. We wanna see how much you’ve learned these past few months, so we know we haven’t been wasting all our time. Two of you will get in the circle and fight. The rest of you, find their flaws and correct them.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sometimes learning from others’ mistakes will assist you in spotting and correcting your own,” added Mr. LaRusso, to clear up the point of their exercise. “This will also judge you on your reflexes, how fast you can react when you’re in the middle of a fight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence nodded. “So, pay attention. I better be hearing from more than just Miss LaRusso when one of you screws up. Let’s start with Mitch and Demetri. You two, get in the circle.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Me?” asked Demetri, pointing to himself while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Since when did you start calling me that?” He narrowed his eyes at Miguel with an aggrieved glare when he elbowed him for asking that question.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence continued staring at him like he expected him to shut up and get started. “What? I told you one day I’d learn your names.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Judging by the look on Demetri’s face, Miguel figured his friend wasn’t particularly impressed by Sensei Lawrence reaching what he probably assumed to be bare minimum standards.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Actually, I have another plan for you, Demetri,” intervened Mr. LaRusso, gesturing for his student. “Chris, why don’t you spar with Mitch for now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris shrugged, flashing Mitch an excited grin, looking like he was ready to give his friend a solid fight. “Sounds good to me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the circle spread out, Chris and Mitch stepping into the middle and loosening their muscles, Miguel turned beside him to Sam and said, “Hey, Sam, real quick, I wanted to say, about what happened last week? Y’know, trying to plan an attack on Cobra Kai? You were right, I wasn’t thinking straight.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam had a hard time holding his gaze, even as she nodded. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’ve never been caught up in anger and made a bad choice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel picked up on her vague hint to what was undoubtedly still eating away at her. She’d continued acting distant around the group, coming across as ill-at-ease and remote. “I don’t think Hawk’s upset about you breaking the pact,” he told her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you upset at me?” asked Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Swallowing the lump in his throat, Miguel assured her, “Not anymore, no. I mean, I’m the one who suggested Hawk should try and make peace between you guys in the first place.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “You did?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, he was trying to make things up with all of you here at Miyagi-Do, and I told him he could do more to help things between you and him,” explained Miguel. “I know you guys will probably never be friends, but I care about you both and just wanted him to put in as much effort with you as he has been with the others.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tugging her braid over her shoulder to pick at it, Sam shook her head and said, “Even if you’re the one who suggested he apologize to me, I’m still the one who broke the promise. I mean, <em>I’m</em> the one who suggested the pact in the first place. But things feel so weird right now. Like, I’m still mad at him for taking Mr. Miyagi’s medal, and I don’t know if I can forgive him for that. But I wish I hadn’t left him alone just because I was angry, and I wish I hadn’t said some of the stuff I did.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You could go tell him that,” suggested Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Retying the hair-tie at the end of her braid, Sam pressed her lips together, looking like she was thinking hard about that advice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the others started practice, Eli picked up the clippers and trimmed the bonsais, making little cuts here and there at the overgrowth as he was told to do. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of the others’ eyes on him. And it wasn’t the stares of awe that he’d come to appreciate. It felt more like the gawking he’d received when he’d hid in oversized sweaters and tried hiding his face behind his hands in the cafeteria, hoping he would blend into the background and nobody would notice him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What was Mitch thinking when he saw him now without his cool hair, hiding his head in a black baseball cap? What about Bert? Or the Miyagi-Dos? Was Miguel pitying him?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli was so wrapped up in his self-consciousness, he cut off too big a chunk from the bonsai he was working on. Now the top of it was wrecked. Mr. LaRusso was wrong, he wouldn’t do fine with this. So Eli tossed his clippers on the table with an irritated sigh and crossed his arms over his chest in defeat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oof, gotta be more careful,” said a voice from someone coming to stand next to him. He didn’t have to look up to recognize it as Demetri’s. “You can’t take back a cut, y’know, you should keep that in mind before committing to it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What are you doing?” asked Eli, glancing at the pair of clippers in Demetri’s hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Mr. L told me to prune some bonsais with you,” remarked Demetri, setting the chair in his other arm down to sit next to him, “Usually we do this as a whole team. Don’t worry if you trim too much on your first try. My first attempt was a complete disaster. But Mr. L assured us, even if you can’t take back a cut, a bad cut always grows back. Or something like that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It didn’t take much brainpower to figure out what point Demetri was making, and hearing it from him aggravated Eli as much as it had hearing the same thing from Sensei Lawrence, even if what they were saying was true. After all, it was only hair to them. “I hate this,” he admitted. “I want to be out there fighting.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Physical activity is overrated,” Demetri quipped, pulling one of the bonsai plants closer to him. Eyeing the cap Eli was wearing, he noted, “So, I guess you’re going to be changing your sense of style with that backwards hat until the mohawk grows back? A little too ‘bro,’ for my taste, but not bad.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I figured you’d be glad to see the mohawk gone,” admitted Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s mouth hung agape, pausing where he’d been ready to clip some of the bonsai. “Why would you think that?” he asked, sounding somewhere between offended and hurt by the remark.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You always made fun of it,” Eli pointed out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling his eyes, Demetri explained, “I told you before, I was just giving you a hard time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli asked him, “You ever think maybe I wasn’t looking for a hard time?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, you shouldn’t have been dishing it if you couldn’t take it,” snapped Demetri. But his expression softened after that retort. “But, listen, just because you acted like a massive douchebag after you started huffing hairspray, that doesn’t mean I like what Kreese’s Serpent Squad did. I mean, if you’d cut off your mohawk yourself, that would’ve been one thing.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I <em>never</em> would’ve cut it off,” asserted Eli adamantly. “Don’t you get it? For the first time in my life, I had control over what people saw when they stared at me. When they looked at me, I knew they were noticing the hair, not my lip. Now all anyone’s gonna notice is my freaky face again. I might as well just go back to the way I was.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that such a bad thing?” asked Demetri. He must have noted the scowl that came over Eli’s face since he quickly added, “I mean, I liked how you used to be.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli asked, “What, when I used to be a loser?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri furrowed his brows. “Is that what you really thought of yourself?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Come on, you knew our lives sucked,” said Eli.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, school sucked,” Demetri corrected, trimming the bonsai in front of him. “Everyone around us sucked. I mean, yeah, we weren’t exactly living the high and glamorous lifestyle of the popular crowd, but I never thought you were a loser. But considering how you started targeting me once you became <em>the Hawk</em>, I’m guessing you thought I was an even bigger loser. Among other colorful epithets.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli went quiet for a few minutes, picking at the table with his fingernail, merely watching in silence while Demetri pruned his bonsai plant. His friend was better at it than he was. There were many things Demetri was better at than he was. “I wasn’t lying that night when I said I didn’t hate you,” he said. “I know it’s probably hard to believe.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, a little, yeah,” agreed Demetri, a smirk curling around the corner of his mouth. “But I believe you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“When I went back to Cobra Kai after you quit, Sensei Lawrence gave me the advice to flip the script,” explained Eli. “That’s where the Hawk came from. And, dude, it was like a switch had flipped. I mean, you saw it yourself. Seeing people stare at my hair instead of my lip? Complimenting me instead of laughing? Learning how to finally fight back instead of running away? It felt so <em>good</em>. Cobra Kai changed my life. But then, I don’t know, I started getting angry at things.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri nodded. “Yeah. Namely me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” agreed Eli. “I mean, after last year’s All-Valley, we had all these new people joining Cobra Kai, and I was worried what they’d think if they knew what I used to be like. So I figured if I made them afraid of me, then they’d never laugh at me, even if they found out the truth about how pathetic I used to be. And meanwhile, you just got to go on like normal. You didn’t have to give up the nerd shit, even when you joined Miyagi-Do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And I guess you couldn’t conceive of being both a nerd and a badass?” asked Demetri. “Let me guess, more of Sensei Lawrence’s brilliant advice?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli rolled his shoulder. “It might’ve been more than that. You kept talking shit about Cobra Kai, and it started to feel like you were attacking <em>me</em>. And, I dunno, I think when I saw you going on about <em>Dungeon Lord</em> and <em>Doctor Who</em>, it reminded me of things I wanted to forget about myself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri paused in the tending of his plant and met Eli’s eyes for a moment. “What about now?” he asked. “Do you still want to forget about all those things? Because I’ve been enjoying having you around more. But, if you really do hate those things….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” muttered Eli. “I’ve been enjoying having you around more, too. I liked playing skeeball with you at Golf N’ Stuff, and I liked watching bad movies at your place. But I also liked being Hawk. I mean, not the asshole parts but, y’know, the other stuff.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting out a dry, sardonic chuckle, Demetri said, “Well, up until you switched to Eagle Fang, the asshole parts were the only parts I saw. And I think you’ve made things way too complicated for yourself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, probably,” Eli conceded.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I mean, for me, I always thought it was pretty simple,” explained Demetri. “There was you, Eli, and then Hawk was your Mirror-Universe doppelgänger. And when you joined our dojo, I thought it meant I was finally getting the old Eli back, but you were still Hawk. So then I thought maybe I was dealing with a Mirror!Georgiou scenario. But I guess things weren’t that simple after all.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Pinching his brows together, Eli asked “Who?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri rolled his eyes again. “You still haven’t got caught up on modern <em>Star Trek</em>, have you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His cheeks warming, Eli admitted, “No, not yet.” Picking at his fingers again, he asked, “Did…Did you wanna come over to my place Tuesday night, and maybe we can binge some of it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, finally, yes!” said Demetri, a bright grin spreading over his face. “Season Two’s finale just aired, so you got a lot to catch up on. But you’ve become such an edgy guy yourself, I think you’re gonna like it a lot. And do you know how long I’ve been waiting to bounce my opinions off on you about the show?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of them.” The both of them laughed at that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s face then sobered a little. “And, listen, if it means anything now, I’m sorry for making fun of your hair,” he apologized.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli nodded, adjusting his hat again. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Chris, watch your right side!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hearing Sam’s remark, Eli’s eyes were drawn over to the circle. He couldn’t see the fight with everyone crowded around Chris and Mitch. So when Miguel called out, “Mitch, dude, you gotta be faster with your reflexes,” he had no clue what spurred the criticism.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He narrowed his eyes. He should’ve been over there with them. Why waste his time helping plants grow when he ought to have been helping his friends get ready for the All-Valley Tournament that was now just over the horizon? If he wanted them to see him for who he really was when they stared at him, he needed to remind them that the Hawk was still there, even while he waited for the mohawk to grow back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Grabbing his crutches, Eli slipped his arms through the cuffs, stood up, and told Demetri, “No offense to Mr. LaRusso, but trimming bonsais is boring as hell.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hobbled over to the circle, coming to stand between Miguel and Nate. When Miguel flashed him a big smile and clapped his shoulder in excitement to see him join the group, he asked him, “How’s Mitch holding up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Score’s four-to-two, with Chris leading,” answered Miguel. “First to five points wins the match.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stared at Hawk while he watched Chris and Mitch spar. It didn’t take long at all to see a familiar excitement come over his face, replacing the previous despondency and self-consciousness Hawk had been wearing while sitting apart from everyone over at the table. And Miguel recognized that happiness in his widening grin. It was the same joy he’d felt that first day Sensei Lawrence had gathered the Eagle Fangs together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Mitch, watch for the fake-out!” Hawk called.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel returned his attention to the center of the circle in time to see Mitch let Chris’s bluff slide, causing him to lose his footing and miss what would have been a resulting follow-up kick. Chris grunted when Mitch’s fist punched him in his gut, scoring the point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Point, Mitch!” announced Bert.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Retaking his position, Mitch jutted his chin out at Hawk. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, thanks for always looking out for Eagle Fang,” Demetri joked while he came over to stand on Hawk’s other side, also giving up on the gardening lesson. “That’s a real shocker.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, and like Miyagi-Do isn’t looking out for each other,” Miguel threw back with a good-natured chuckle.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Across from the circle, standing on the patio drinking from water bottles, Mr. LaRusso opened his mouth like he was about to tell Hawk to go back and give maintaining the bonsais a chance. But Sensei Lawrence backhanded him on the chest when he took a step forward to stop him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate gave the signal for the next round. Miguel watched Chris close the gap between them and come at Mitch with a knife-hand punch, which Mitch ducked to avoid. Noticing Mitch’s lag in twisting around to deliver a flying knee, Miguel said, “Counter faster, Mitch!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His advice proved astute when Chris saw the attack coming and blocked it in time. He pivoted his elbow up towards Mitch’s chin, but Mitch managed to pull back to keep it from landing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Chris, he’s not paying attention to his left side!” Miguel heard Hawk yell beside him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris reacted instantly, spinning his right leg around to nail Mitch’s left side before his friend could effectively block him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate announced, “Point and match, Chris!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ignoring Chris’s whoop of victory, Mitch turned to Hawk, spread out his arms, and asked, “What the hell, man? You can’t play both sides.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk just laughed. And Miguel loved to hear it. “Sometimes losing’s the only way you’re gonna learn from your mistakes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was the least Cobra Kai thing Miguel could remember hearing Hawk say. He looked over to Sensei Lawrence to see how he would respond. After gulping down some more water and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Sensei Lawrence simply grinned and announced, “Alright, next fight! Bert and Nate, get in the circle!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. El Halcón</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel tapped his pencil against the notebook laid out on his desk in front of him, on beat with the music blaring through his earphones. The assigned pages in Trigonometry seemed so insignificant with the All-Valley Tournament right over the horizon, but he’d worked so hard to get caught up on missing almost half his junior year’s schoolwork, Miguel wasn’t about to let it slip again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was so focused on his music and slogging through the last few math problems, he hadn’t even noticed his mother had been standing at the door to his bedroom calling for his attention until she was next to him at his desk and shaking his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Mom,” he greeted, pulling his earphones off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I was saying, there’s still leftover encebollado for dinner later,” said Carmen, “and Ya-Ya can fry you up some plantains as well. We need to use them or freeze them soon.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded, running a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his head, only half paying attention to the food-talk. “Okay, sounds good. You get called to the hospital again?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mom shook her head. “No, but I’m going out here soon.” Looking down at the opened textbook on his desk, she asked, “What are you up to?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just finishing my homework,” answered Miguel, glancing at the trig equation he’d been working on in his notebook. Only three more and he’d be done. “And then I’m gonna bike over to Hawk’s house for a while after dinner.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen smiled at that news. “How’s he doing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Better, I think,” answered Miguel. It felt more like a guess. After all, he would’ve been hard-pressed to say when he’d started feeling better once he came home from the hospital, much less when others were able to pick up on it accurately. “He’s coming back to school tomorrow and he’s been letting Sensei pick him up for practice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">During the lessons that week, Hawk had watched and participated where he could. He was astute and observant, noticing things even Miguel sometimes didn’t. It was like he had the eyes of, well, a hawk. He seemed to especially enjoy giving his commentary whenever one of the guys flubbed a move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel also knew that wasn’t what he really wanted to be doing. He knew Hawk was itching to be practicing alongside them, honing his skills in the final weeks leading up to the Tournament. This was simply making the best of a bad situation. Although that was much better than the alternative of letting the situation swallow him into a chasm of depression and giving up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaning against his desk, Carmen crossed her arms over her chest. “Speaking of your Sensei,” she said, “I thought I should go ahead and tell you that he will be coming with me when I leave shortly. We’re going out together to talk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That yanked Miguel out of his thoughts about Hawk and practice. And it was only then that he paid actual attention to how his mother was currently dressed. She was wearing a pair of dress pants and a flowery blouse, and she had her makeup done. She certainly didn’t look like she was going out to run errands that evening. Or to only talk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wait, you’re going out on a date?” asked Miguel, setting his pencil down, brows pinching to the bridge of his nose. Was his mom giving Sensei a second chance?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” Carmen insisted with another shake of her head. “It’s not a date.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel almost snorted. “Yeah, heard that one before,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother gave him a look. “We’re going out for dinner, but it’s only to talk, that’s all. Just as friends. We figured we would catch up with each other about work and your karate, among other things. In fact, I wanted to talk to him about doing something about the pressure you and your friends have been under, lately. It feels like he and Mr. LaRusso have forgotten this Tournament is not the end of the world.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Brushing aside his mother’s concerns like he hadn’t even heard them, Miguel asked, “So you’re having dinner together, but just as friends?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We both decided to get to know each other a little better first this time around,” explained Carmen.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“A little better before <em>what</em>?” stressed Miguel, rolling the pencil between his thumbs and forefingers, almost apprehensive of what the answer might be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Before we see where we go from there,” Carmen answered carefully.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mouth twitched at that vague response. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother pressed her lips together for a long moment, like she was thinking hard about how to answer that question. “It means I’m willing to get to know him first as a friend,” was her response, using that insistent word again. Friend. Running a hand up his arm, she asked him, “Are you still upset over what happened?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rolled his shoulders. “A little, yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I told you, I didn’t want this to interfere with your karate, or cause a division between you,” his mother reminded him, rubbing his shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I know,” said Miguel. He remembered his mom telling him she didn’t want this to come between him and Sensei. But how could it not? He wished he didn’t know the things he knew now. He wished he could go back to a time when Sensei Lawrence seemed like the coolest father figure ever.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then Miguel had to remember, there was never a time when Sensei Lawrence had been perfect. Sensei’s flaws had always been there, front and center: he drank a lot and didn’t always take care of himself; sometimes he would cross mean-spirited lines with his students; he hadn’t been a great dad to Robby. Miguel had been forced to confront the fact more than once that his Sensei wasn’t a perfect man.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He could live with his Sensei being imperfect, but he didn’t want to see him upset his mother again. What if his mother and Sensei decided they wanted to be more than friends? What if they tried making romance work once more? And what if Sensei hurt his mother a second time? Miguel wondered if he had it in himself to forgive Sensei Lawrence for another transgression like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t think he did.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then Miguel wondered, had that figured into why he hadn’t brought up the topic of coming out to Sensei Lawrence in the past several weeks? Sure, the subject had fallen by the wayside as Hawk had his hands full with plenty of other problems since his fight, but being honest with himself, Miguel had been glad to not have to bring it up again, yet. It allowed him to avoid asking himself what he would do if telling Sensei ended up going badly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When he’d first brought up the subject to Hawk, Miguel didn’t think he had anything to worry about with telling Sensei Lawrence. Sure, he suspected he’d have to explain a few things, he knew Sensei was from a different time. But Sensei was also a man who’d shown he was willing to learn.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But now? Miguel was actually worried. Because what if Hawk was right? What if Sensei didn’t understand?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Maybe that was unfair of him to think Sensei Lawrence couldn’t learn. Last month, he would have argued with himself now that he needed to give Sensei a chance. And intellectually, he knew Sensei would be there for him, as he always had been.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Sensei Lawrence had also shown a flippant disregard for his mother’s feelings when he went on a date with his old crush Ali. Would he show that same flippancy again when confronted with something like this? And what if he was fine with him being bi, but didn’t like his choice in a partner? He had to call Sensei out on not visiting Hawk after the fight. And, looking back on it after that, Sensei Lawrence was perhaps more unfair to Hawk than he’d been willing to acknowledge.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s gut clenched. He didn’t want Sensei Lawrence disappointing him like that again. He didn’t want to be put in a position where he’d never be able to forgive Sensei.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He wished he never had to ask his mother the question that came out of him now. “Mom, do you trust Sensei?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His mother let out a soft sigh, biting her bottom lip just for a quick second before giving him a reserved smile. “I’m willing to give him the opportunity to earn his trust back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All Miguel could do was nod. After all, this was his mother’s choice. He’d have to make his own choice later. “Okay. I hope he does.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Carmen nodded back. “So do I.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is this gonna be what our dates are limited to for a while?” asked Eli. He guessed he didn’t do a good job masking the sadness in his question behind the smirk on his face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Putting his hand on Eli’s good knee, Miguel tried assuring him, “Hey, this isn’t that bad. After all, you guys got a sweet big screen.” For emphasis, he gestured to the television they were watching.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli shifted on the couch where they were sitting in his living room. It was hard to get comfortable, even with his bad leg stretched out on the couch’s recliner. “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be way more fun to go out riding right now instead of sitting here all night?” he retorted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It didn’t help his wanderlust that Mitch had posted pics on his Instagram of his most recent joyride on his motorcycle, tagging Eli that the Eagle Fangs should all go cruising together once he got his brace off. Mitch had even joked that he should get a side-car added to his bike so it’d be safer for Bert to ride, instead of hoping their friend didn’t fall off as they raced up the highway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That sounded like it’d be a blast. Once he got his brace off. But that day felt like it would never come. And as for now, Eli was convinced he was going to lose his mind from cabin fever. When he wasn’t at practice, he was at home. To think there was ever a time he preferred to spend most of his time at home.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He wanted to take Miguel out on a joyride of their own, but his motorcycle was going to be left parked in the garage for at least another month. He wanted to go hang out at the beach, but there was no way he could manage his crutches on the sand. Miguel didn’t have his own car. And Eli imagined vividly how embarrassing it would be to rely on his parents to drive them on their dates. So he was stuck in his house.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We can still have fun hanging in,” said Miguel, showing his teeth behind his smile. To prove his point, the hand he’d laid on Eli’s knee inched up his thigh.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Even as he felt his face heat up, Eli chuckled under his breath, pushing Miguel’s hand away. “Heh, thanks, but I’m not starting the engine if I can’t take it out for a drive. Besides, it’s weird with the leg brace on. And, y’know….” He made a vague gesture to the black hat he was wearing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s smile ebbed some.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And before he could give Miguel time to think of something to say, Eli asked him, “The teachers probably aren’t gonna let me wear my hat inside the school tomorrow, huh?” He never understood that stupid rule. If anything, his cap would be less distracting to others compared to his liberty spikes. But then, that had been the point. He’d been distracting in a good way when he’d had them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel offered him a little laugh of his own, likely to help ease the tension than there being anything funny about the situation. “Probably not.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He thought not. And part of Eli dreaded the idea of showing up to his classes the next day with his hair looking like it currently did. And he knew that dread was more dramatic than was warranted. And even Miguel wouldn’t understand. Perhaps Miguel even thought he was just being prissy, like Sensei Lawrence had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With a frustrated sigh, Eli pulled his hat off. Running his fingers through his hair to feel for himself that it had started growing back, he couldn’t shake the sensation that it still didn’t feel like <em>his</em> hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli remembered what he saw whenever he looked in the bathroom mirror. The black dye at the roots and sides had long since faded, bringing back the familiar mousy brown of his natural hair. There was no bold color to it any longer. And even though it had started regrowing, it was a ways off from being long enough to style back into a proper mohawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you gonna re-dye it?” asked Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Maybe Miguel could see what he saw, without it being pointed out to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What’s the point?” Eli countered. He hadn’t bothered maintaining it since the incident. Once or twice he’d stared at the various containers of Manic Panic sitting on his bathroom counter and considered it, but if his hair wasn’t long enough to style into a mohawk, then what did it matter anymore, he figured?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel countered his question back. “Well, you enjoy it, don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Then don’t let Cobra Kai take that from you, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had a point. Cobra Kai had already taken his last under-eighteen All-Valley Tournament away from him. But this? This could still be his, if he let it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess it’s pretty much the only thing I <em>can</em> do for now, huh?” asked Eli, eyes moving to linger on the brace secured around his leg. “Since I won’t be fighting anytime soon.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Given the choice between his hairstyle and participating in the All-Valley, Eli couldn’t be sure which he would choose to have. He’d wanted so badly to have the final laugh against Sensei Kreese, to prove to him what he’d lost when he’d betrayed his students once Eagle Fang took down his poisoned version of Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’d hoped to take down Robby himself, so Miguel wouldn’t have to. So he could finally give Miguel closure. Then it would’ve been the two of them fighting for the championship.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel playfully punched him on his shoulder. “What about when you helped Mitch yesterday perfect his hook-kick-grab? You were the one who saw he wasn’t shifting his weight hard enough, all from the sidelines. Didn’t you see his face when he threw Demetri to the ground with it? And now Bert’s practically begging you to help him learn the windmill kick. Don’t get me wrong, I know it sucks feeling like you’re stuck on the sidelines and can’t get hands-on. I <em>get</em> it, trust me. But the other guys have really started looking up to you, y’know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s kinda weird,” Eli admitted. “You’ve always been the better leader,” He’d tried leading Cobra Kai in Miguel’s absence, but even though he’d wanted to be every bit the leader Miguel was, he didn’t have it in him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, sometimes being the leader kind of sucks though,” laughed Miguel. “You can share some of that if you want.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t really need Miguel to elaborate on that. He was feeling those effects himself from his own short stint as leader. He carried the responsibility of leading the revenge-quest against Miyagi-Do, and maybe he always would. He hoped Miguel knew, though, that so far he hadn’t led any of them in Eagle Fang astray.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But everyone trusts you,” Eli told him. “I mean, we all know you’re not gonna do anything stupid. But the guys, they were mostly just scared of me when I was top dog. Which, heh, I guess I wanted them to be.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The other guys flocked to Miguel back when he was in Cobra Kai. They flocked to him now. And why wouldn’t they? Miguel carried himself with such effortless confidence, he probably bled charisma and charm. Hawk had tried emulating all that, but it never came naturally to him as it seemed to with Miguel. So rather than relying on the sort of confidence that didn’t require others’ approval to get the other guys to like him, he’d turned to aggression and lorded over them instead. And of course, the result wasn’t the same.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel asked, “Yeah, but you don’t want them to be afraid of you anymore, do you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli shook his head. “No. But can I be real with you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Always, man,” answered Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ve been thinking a lot….” Eli hesitated, his tongue thickening in his mouth. Fidgeting with his hands in his lap, he thought about dropping it. But he valued Miguel’s opinion more than anyone else’s. He needed to hear it now. “Do you think it’s good if I go back to being Hawk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watched Miguel’s eyebrows furrow, the way it drew a crease up his forehead. “What do you mean? You are Hawk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli had forgotten that Miguel didn’t make that clear distinction between his old self and the Hawk the way others did, the way <em>he</em> did. “I mean, do you think I should just give it up? Maybe this happened for a reason, y’know, after everything I did. Do you think I put too much into it? The other guys probably thought I was some kind of out-of-control blood-thirsty nutcase or something. What if I did like fighting too much? What if I really just love beating people up? And if I go back to being the Hawk, do you think I’ll go back to being an asshole, too?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once his kneecap was healed, what was to stop him from letting his anger take control again? What was stopping him from releasing his rage on one of his friends like he did Brucks? At least if he remained as he was, there was no danger of that happening, right? Even if he wanted to go back to being Hawk, wasn’t it better for everyone if he gave it up?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s face had pinched in confusion while he had rambled, then settled into a determined countenance at the end of it. “If we’re being real, let me ask you something. If you could go back and get a do-over, would you finish Tory off before she busted your knee? Would you have put her in the hospital instead? Tell me, honestly.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Looking back down at the brace on his leg again, Eli thought over it for a moment. “I dunno,” he muttered with a shrug. Then, more concretely, he said, “I mean, I hate that I can’t fight in the Tournament with you now. But Tory was one of us. I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I’d want to hurt the other guys now. I don’t want to do to any of them what I did to Demetri. It’s the whole reason I left Cobra Kai.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And that’s what your gut told you, isn’t it?” asked Miguel. When Eli nodded, he said, “I already told you there were days when I wish I’d broken Robby’s arm. But I know, deep down, I did the right thing in letting him go.” Miguel paused for a second, his face looking momentarily pained, like he been pricked by something. “I think maybe that’s the hardest lesson I’ve ever had to learn. You can do the right thing and still lose. But Sensei’s been teaching us about honor and mercy, and you don’t do the right thing because you expect to win. You do the right thing because it’s right. And it sounds like you’ve been picking up on that just fine.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah?” Eli soaked in everything he was hearing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel gave him a wide grin again. “You really can’t see how much you’ve improved since coming to Eagle Fang, can you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eli returned his grin with a small smile of his own. “I guess no more than you can see for yourself that you’re back to being a total badass.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shifting closer to him on the couch, Miguel laid a hand on his arm. “I knew you’d find yourself again once you got away from Kreese. Now everyone else has finally been able to get to know you. And there’s still nobody else I’d rather have with me in a fight than you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hearing Miguel say that lifted his spirits more than he could have imagined. And he tried to look at himself the way Miguel saw him. No distinct line between Eli and Hawk. If there was no clear line, there was no fear in crossing it. Eli had got off on the fighting as much as Hawk, and Hawk had wanted to atone for his mistakes as much as Eli. And Miguel had never seen the difference. He’d always seen only him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Looking at Miguel’s face, Hawk’s smile brightened more. “And it’s not just in a fight you want the Hawk by your side, is it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Raising the hand on his arm to cup his jaw, Miguel answered his question by drawing him in and kissing him. It was their first kiss since the fight, and Hawk was worried he’d be treated too timidly after everything that had happened. But given the invitation, Miguel pressed himself closer against him, wrapping his other hand over his shoulder to kiss him harder. Hawk returned the embrace, winding an arm around his back, returning the kiss with another after a moment’s breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they broke, Hawk said, “I guess you were right. Hanging in tonight hasn’t been so bad.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And Ya-Ya’s not expecting me back until ten,” Miguel commented, a suggestive curl to his grin now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk chuckled. Licking his bottom lip, he brought his hand back up to run through his hair again. Even with his face warm and still catching his breath, he tried concentrating on its regrowth, on the feeling of the longer strands that had grown on top. It was his. He could do with it what he wanted again. “You wanna help me dye it?” he asked suddenly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “You trust me to bleach your hair?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk made a face. “It’s not that hard, man.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, yeah,” answered Miguel, sitting up straight. A gleam had come over his brown eyes. “Yeah, let’s do it! What color are you gonna dye it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Reaching for his crutches, Hawk laughed. “I dunno. Let’s find out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Princess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Sam tried hard to concentrate on her katas. It was difficult when she could hear every childish insult coming from where Nate and Bert were sparring each other in front of the tree in the backyard. She didn’t know why she could block out everyone else but them; she’d even managed to selectively mute out Demetri as he bargained with Chris about why the whole dojo should go see the newest Marvel movie. Even closing her eyes and taking deep breaths while she went through the movements didn’t help her ignore them any better.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s a point for me, dick-wipe,” Bert announced after he grabbed and threw Nate on the ground, landing a punch on his gut.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Picking himself off the grass and patting the dust from his shorts, Nate said, “Yeah, but I’m still in the lead by two points, elephant-ears.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not for long, fart-breather,” Bert taunted back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam huffed, glaring at the duo where they were practicing. She then leveled that stare also on Hawk, who had been watching them and giving his commentary the whole time. Apparently, that commentary didn’t include stopping them from calling each other names. And his presence was even more of a distraction to her than the younger boys’.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Unintimidated, Nate spread open his arms at Bert and sneered at him. “I can do this all day, you goon.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk snorted but rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Nate, you can do better than ‘goon.’”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate flipped him off without missing a beat. “Shut up, you horse’s ass.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The grin on Hawk’s face widened ear-to-ear. “See, that’s more like it!” he praised while Bert and Nate returned to their starting positions for another round.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, Sam came up and stood next to him, hands on her hips. “Do you <em>really</em> think you should be encouraging that kind of bullying?” she interrogated. Her words were harsh but lacked the bite they used to carry whenever she confronted him about something. She sounded more exasperated than critical to her own ears.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Leaning on his crutches, Hawk looked at her only for a quick second before casting his eyes away to the other boys. “It’s only bullying if it’s one-sided,” he explained. “This is just fun trash-talk.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Doesn’t sound very fun to me,” said Sam, shaking her head at such a juvenile justification. Her eyes lingered on Hawk’s hair. She still wasn’t used to the new purple dye job, any more than she had grown accustomed to seeing him without his red mohawk. It was what she’d associated him with for so long, the look of the enemy, sometimes it was hard for her to think of him any other way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And, if nothing else, purple was a lot less angrier than red.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, for real, it’s cool, Sam,” Nate assured her, rolling his shoulders. He at least looked like he was having fun, judging by his smile. “Besides seeing who’s the better fighter, we’re trying to figure out who’s the best shit-talker, me or this idiot. I’m winning in both categories, by the way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk raised an eyebrow down at his teammate and said, “Yeah, Bert, you gotta start picking up the slack, dude.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry, I got this.” Pushing his glasses up his nose, Bert asked, “Wait, I lost track, what letter are we on now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“J,” answered Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, right.” Bert whipped back around to face Nate and the two bowed to one another as customary. Then Bert raised his fists and said, “You ready to give me a real fight already, jackass?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate scoffed. “That the best insult you can think of, knuckle-fucker?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s jaw dropped. “Nate!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her teammate grimaced a little at the sound of her disappointment in his choice of words. Beside her, Hawk simply snickered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two younger students began the next round. Sam kept her sight on them as their fight commenced. Bert opened with a high kick aimed at his opponent’s head, which Nate ducked to avoid. When Bert swung back around to deliver a side kick, Nate pivoted around to dodge that as well, slipping behind Bert to try and deliver a punch to his exposed back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert dropped low to his knees, making sure Nate punched nothing but air. Rotating on his feet, Bert aimed a punch at Nate’s face. Nate’s arm flew up to block it, and he countered with another flying fist. Bert raised his elbow, but not fast enough to shield himself before Nate’s knuckles slammed into his shoulder, scoring the point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Watching the whole fight go down with critical eyes, Sam was about to call out Bert’s mistake but Hawk beat her to it. “Yo, Bert, how many times do I gotta tell you, get your elbow up quicker.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, limp-dick, get your elbow up,” repeated Nate, giving Bert a shove.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Bert and Nate continued volleying insults to one another, Sam turned to Hawk and asked, “Hey, can we talk for a minute, you and me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stared at her for a long moment. Maybe he was considering her motivations for making such a request, as she had back when he’d asked to have an opportunity to talk one-on-one with her, too. Maybe he could even deduce she had similar reasons asking for his attention as he had that day at school, since he then jutted his chin out at Bert and Nate and said, “Hey, you two, beat it for a bit. Go take a water break or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Like a switch had flipped, the boys dropped their antagonism and stopped shoving each other, and the two walked off towards the water cooler together, laughing with each other instead. So perhaps it really had only been mutual trash-talk. Still juvenile, though, Sam thought while Hawk hobbled to the nearby chair under the tree to sit down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for breaking the pact,” confessed Sam as she joined him under the cool shade of the tree while Hawk leaned his crutches against the armrest of the chair. “Hearing you admit you stole Mr. Miyagi’s medal, on top of everything else you did, it really upset me. And to be honest, I’m still pretty upset about it. But I shouldn’t have broken the pact because of it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s eyes flitted before looking away at where the others were practicing. “I went looking for the fight,” he said with a dismissive shrug. “You being there probably wouldn’t have made any difference. No offense.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam’s features pinched at his shade, which felt even cooler than the once provided by the tree. "Hey, I’ve been practicing karate a lot longer than you have,” she pointed out. “If I’d been there to help watch your back, maybe we wouldn’t be down a fighter for the All-Valley.” As much as it pained her to admit it, Hawk was one of the best fighters in the dojo. They really could have used him against Cobra Kai at the Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe,” Hawk conceded.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rubbing her hands up her arms, Sam shook her head. “At least now you saw for yourself what a total psycho Tory can be when you’re fighting against her instead of on her side.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk sighed. It sounded irate. “You don’t know anything about Tory.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam flinched, and her fingers grazed over the scars on her upper arm. Miguel had accused her of the same thing. “I don’t want to know her,” she argued. “I just want her out of my life, for good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Nobody’s asking you to be her best friend or hang out with her or whatever,” Hawk pointed out, “but what would you do if she ever decided to quit Cobra Kai and join Eagle Fang? Miguel still wants her to, y’know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“She won’t,” declared Sam, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Miguel argued about that with me, too. I don’t get you guys. After everything she’s done, do you <em>actually </em>think she’s going to turn a new leaf and all of a sudden become a nice person? People like that don’t change.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stared at her. It was difficult to read the expression on his face, and it didn’t help when a cynical chuckle parted his lips and he shook his head. “That’s right,” he said. “I forgot, you don’t think people like us can change. It’s so weird. You’ve always been pretty smug about how Miyagi-Do is supposed to be based on <em>real</em> karate or whatever, but you really don’t buy all that forgiveness and compassion stuff your dad teaches, do you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His words cut her as Sam recalled what she’d told Hawk before leaving him behind at the Starbucks that day. And any feelings of affirmation towards those things she’d said to him then about being petty and spiteful were caught in her throat now. Could she still believe that? Because why was she over here having this conversation with him if she didn’t believe, on some level, that perhaps she’d been unfair and Hawk had changed in the time since he’d quit Cobra Kai and joined the merged dojos?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She tried to think of something to say, but her words remained stuck. All she could think to do was deflect. “I thought you didn’t need my forgiveness.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk rubbed the back of his neck, glaring down at his feet. His blue eyes hardened. “Do you remember when you said you wouldn’t ever forget how Demetri screamed when I broke his arm?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam nodded. “Yes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Raising his eyebrows, Hawk glanced up again and gave her a somber look. “I’ll never forget, either.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">How was she supposed to respond to a confession like that? She wanted to continue being angry on Demetri’s behalf, even though Demetri had always handled repairing his friendship with Hawk his own way. Maybe in a way more in line with what her dad had been teaching them at Miyagi-Do….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam cupped her elbows in her hands, hearing the old lessons in her head again, the ones both her father and Mr. Miyagi had tried teaching her. Ever since she was a little girl, they’d taught her to keep her heart open to the possibility of accepting someone’s repentance. But wasn’t she entitled to hold onto her justified anger for as long as she wanted?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then again, hadn’t things started drastically improving once her dad and Sensei Lawrence started making up? Wasn’t a big reason why things the way they were now, with so much riding on a karate tournament because of Sensei Lawrence’s unwillingness to drop a thirty-year-feud and apologize for bullying her father in high school? And hadn’t her father’s own bitterness escalated matters much further than they had to be?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam pulled her braid over her shoulder and bit her bottom lip as those worries started tugging at her insides. She hated Tory. And she was still upset with Hawk. But did she want to wake up thirty years from now, still holding onto old grudges?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk yanked her from those thoughts when another cynical laugh broke out of him. “Look, about breaking the pact? We’re cool,” he said, reaching for his crutches where he’d laid them. “Hell, I guess I should probably thank you for coming back for me at all and calling your dad for help. And for not telling the others what you saw….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t….” Sam shivered, picking at the end of her braid, remembering when Hawk had finally answered her call, alerting her to where he was. But for as troublingly meek as his voice had been on the line, nothing could have prepared her for how she’d found him lying behind the 7-Eleven, curled into himself, clutching his knee with one hand, hiding his face behind his other arm so she wouldn’t see him crying. But she’d heard him. And she’d seen the strewn cut hair lying around his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It would be a while before she could purge that image from her mind. For the time being it resided alongside the memory of climbing down the school stairs to kneel next to Miguel’s broken form while he lied there in a coma, nonrespondent. Along with hiding herself in a laser tag cardboard building, hearing Demetri beg for Hawk to let him go before screaming as his arm was snapped in two.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel, Demetri, Hawk. How many people did she have to see at their absolute lowest before all of this was over?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk stood up beside her. “Well, if we’re done, I’m heading over to talk with Demetri. He might need me and Chris both if he wants to convince Mitch to go to see <em>Captain Marvel</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Flipping her braid back over her shoulder, Sam hustled to cut him off before he could hobble more than a few strides. “Listen, Hawk, I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you for everything, yet,” she told him honestly. He had apologized, which was a good start. Acknowledging where he had improved didn’t invalidate her other feelings towards him. She was prepared to accept that. And, since he had given her that inch, she could now open the door she’d closed in his face from the moment he’d joined Eagle Fang. “But I do think I’m ready to trust you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I picked up some extra tips at the restaurant,” said Tory, handing her mother an envelope with the cash. “So you can get caught up on some of the back payments with the hospital now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her mother had that look in her eyes again as she accepted the envelope. They only saddened more in suspicion when she counted how much money there was in there. Too much to chalk up to tips, even from the most generous of customers at a sushi restaurant. And Tory knew her mother was seeing through her lies.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Here, save a little for yourself,” her mom said, pulling a ten-dollar bill out of the stack and handing it back to her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory knew better than to argue with her about it. “Okay.” Pocketing it, she walked out of her mother’s bedroom and headed back to the living room to work on her GED assignment. It had become harder and harder to stand seeing that look on her mother’s face. She was already so worried about the path her life had taken since last summer, and Tory wondered where her mother thought it would end.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What else could she tell her? That she’d accepted another handout from Mr. Silver, despite her gut feeling gnawing at her insides, telling her something about the whole situation was off? But what other choice did she gave? The hospital bills wouldn’t stop coming, and working herself to the bone at two jobs wasn’t covering them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There came a knock at the front door. When she peeked through the eyehole to see who was standing on the other side, Tory’s breath caught in her throat. She hesitated for a few seconds and glanced over her shoulder where her phone laid on the living room table. Should she alert the guys at the dojo? She should at least tell Robby, right?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rather than doing that, however, she hardened her expression and opened the door. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s face looked as guarded as her own as he stood there at the front door. “I want to talk,” he stated, as simple as that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory scoffed, peering behind Miguel to see if anyone else had accompanied him there to her apartment complex, to see if this was a trap, the precursor to retribution. But all she saw was the bicycle he’d rode to get there. “Wanna tell your friends to not bother hiding this time?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The others aren’t here,” said Miguel. “It’s just me. Alone.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Coming into enemy territory on your own?” asked Tory, cocking an eyebrow like she was critical of his choice. After all, ever since the fight at the LaRussos, it seemed like the students of Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do were never flying solo. While they were waiting for an opportunity to break the truce so she could avenge their loss, the guys told her even Hawk was always with someone else. So why would Miguelrisk coming on his own now, after Cobra Kai had sent its message loud and clear about what happened to traitors?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head. “This isn’t enemy territory, it’s your apartment,” he argued. “And I’m here alone as a sign of good faith. I’m not here to fight you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His eyes softened some behind his stoic shield. “How are your ribs feeling?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory’s expression tightened more, and the contraction of muscles brought a familiar ache to her sides. They probably would have healed quicker if she’d gotten them professionally checked out at the hospital, but they couldn’t afford yet another medical bill at this time. But she’d be ready by the All-Valley Tournament, regardless.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Spare me your bullshit,” she told Miguel, stepping outside and closing the door behind her, so her family didn’t have to hear them. Where did Miguel get off with his pity now? Just like when he’d shown up to her job that day, waxing on about how he wanted her to join Eagle Fang. Where was all this concern of his when they’d first talked after he got out of the hospital? “What do you want? Let me guess, you’re here about what happened to Hawk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. The previous softness on his face was now twinged with disappointment and, if Tory had to bet on it, sadness. “I can’t believe you’d do that to one of your old teammates,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory wanted to laugh. So she did. The war would have been finished back in December if Hawk hadn’t betrayed <em>his</em> teammates. “It’s what traitors deserve,” she insisted, crossing her arms defensively, the scowl on her face deepening.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Rolling those slumped shoulders, Miguel sighed. He shook his head, staring at her with resolve. “Are you going to do the same thing to me now?” he asked, sounding almost like he was giving her an invitation. “Since I’m a traitor, too, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory shifted on her feet, still wondering if this was some sort of trap. “You’ll get what’s coming to you at the All-Valley,” she said, remembering Sensei Kreese’s orders. Miguel was off-limits. No one was supposed to touch him until the Tournament. He was last year’s champion, he was the one Kreese wanted to make an example of in front of an audience. She’d have her chance to make him pay later.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But why wait?” asked Miguel. Tory couldn’t shake the feeling that Miguel had figured out the game. “You could’ve waited to beat Hawk at the All-Valley, too, but Sensei Kreese wanted you to take him out before then, didn’t he? This was just as much about removing competition from the Tournament as it was about getting back at Hawk for quitting Cobra Kai, wasn’t it? You guys would’ve jumped at any excuse.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And you think I should feel bad about it, is that it?” challenged Tory, feeling her muscles tense even more. She needed to get off the defensive and fast.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Miguel disarmed her with one observation. “I think you <em>do</em> feel bad about it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory let out a noise, somewhere between a huff and a snicker. Shaking her head, she said, “He should count himself lucky he didn’t get worse. Traitors get no mercy. Hawk knew that better than anyone. He was as committed to this war as the rest of us, and he got what he deserved for betraying his team to side with the enemy. I don’t feel bad for <em>any</em> of it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that why you couldn’t cut his hair?” asked Miguel, standing up straighter. “Is that why you had Robby do it, instead?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory fought to keep her expression neutral, hardening her face in hopes that Miguel wouldn’t pick up on her uncertainty any more than he apparently already had. He couldn’t know that it had felt different than she imagined it would, seeing Hawk on the ground defenseless like that, waiting for her to deal the real blow. Because it hadn’t been the same as dishing it out to Miyagi-Do. Because Hawk had been her teammate, he’d been her friend. And if she had that moment of weakness with Hawk, would she hesitate again when the time came to give Miguel what he deserved?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She ignored his question and changed her strategy. She was tired of Miguel’s astuteness and wanted him out of there. So she attacked back with, “The only thing I regret is that the Princess wasn’t there, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That had an effect on Miguel. He wasn’t as good at hiding his hurt as she was. “Tory….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Aww, would that have made you upset?” asked Tory, tilting her head in spiteful mockery, hoping the belittlement of his feelings hit as hard as a punch to the gut. “Enemies and traitors, they all get what comes to them eventually, you can rely on that. Maybe a little more time in the hospital would finally teach your girlfriend she’s not entitled to everything in this world.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam and I aren’t together anymore,” said Miguel, his brow deepening, drawing his mouth in a stony line. His fists were clenched by his sides. “We’ve been broken up for a while.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory’s eyes widened and her mouth hung slack a bit at hearing that news. But she quickly collected herself, letting a mean smile curl around the corners of her lips while a scoff parted from them. “So you finally got tired of the Princess for real?” she asked, her voice sarcastically sweet. “Or is this just you pretending you’re over her while you go off to break someone else’s heart before crawling back to LaRusso again?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m already going out with someone else.” Miguel left it at that, even when Tory provided him a moment to elaborate further. And judging from the look on his face, she could tell there was something he wasn’t telling her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But what did it matter?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That doesn’t change anything,” insisted Tory, narrowing her eyes. “In three weeks, you, LaRusso, and everyone else in your dojos are going to be destroyed. Once Cobra Kai wins, none of you will matter.” Scoping him up and down, she snorted with contempt. “You could have been so much more. Even after what happened at school, you could have still been a champion. But you chose to be weak, instead.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s features broke again, softening from their stiff countenance to reveal what she would have described as heartache in his brown eyes. And Tory’s own heart stung, remembering how she’d fallen for those heartbroken eyes before, that night in the park so long ago.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry that I hurt you, Tory,” Miguel confessed, catching Tory off-guard again with how simple and sincere he sounded as he muttered it. “I’m sorry I kissed Sam, I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you about not being over her during the time we were going out together. I tried telling you after Moon’s party, but I couldn’t reach you. And I know things haven’t been easy for you since the school fight. I’m sorry for not listening to you better when you tried telling me. But please, stop feeling like you have to take it out on Sam or Hawk or anyone else to get back at me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a moment, Tory’s insides twisted like a pretzel. She was lightheaded. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted from Miguel for a long time? An apology? An acknowledgment that he’d hurt her? But what did such an apology mean at this point? It wouldn’t stop the war between Cobra Kai and its enemies. It wouldn’t get her back in school. It wouldn’t fix what her life had become.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So she doubled down, huffing yet again at his attempts towards a reconciliation. “You think this just has to do with you? How self-absorbed can you be? This is bigger than you, Miguel. LaRusso, she had it out for me from the start.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Samantha LaRusso embodied everything she had come to expect from this world made up of winners and losers. People like Sam expected to be the winners by virtue of being born privileged. They expected everything to be handed to them and to be able to reach out and grab those things that weren’t. People like Sam looked down on her because they assumed she should be the loser by default. But Tory would show them she wasn’t going to lose at what life threw at her anymore.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shook his head. “Please, you can stop this now,” he pleaded. “Can’t you see that Kreese was willing to sacrifice you if it meant taking out Hawk, just so he could make sure Robby and I are the only ones to make it to the finals?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“God, you’re so full of yourself!” snapped Tory. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sensei Kreese had encouraged her from the start to prepare to put Hawk in his place for what he did. It was <em>her</em> privilege. And he was giving her time to recover for the All-Valley, which meant she <em>couldn’t</em> do the high-level workouts Sensei Kreese had Robby going through.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Come join us at Eagle Fang,” requested Miguel. “Put all of this behind you and move forward. You always have a choice, Tory.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Choice? What other choice did she have at this point? Sam had ruined her life. She’d taken her boyfriend, her education, and her reputation. What was left for her? Her friends? Aisha was gone. Miguel had hurt her. Hawk had betrayed her. The only person left in the dojo who could even begin to understand what she was going through was Robby.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At least Robby had people who cared. Sensei Lawrence had shown up multiple times to the dojo and tried coming between Robby and Sensei Kreese. Even Mr. LaRusso had spewed some bullshit to try and wring Robby back to Miyagi-Do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But her? Sensei Kreese had made it clear only he and Mr. Silver cared about her. Nobody else did. So what was she supposed to do? Betray the Sensei she owed what little she had? The Sensei who reminded her what it was like to be a winner? She wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t Hawk. She knew where her loyalties lied, and it was to the only person who cared about her now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory’s conscience suddenly tugged at her, twisting her insides tighter. Miguel had come to the restaurant to try and convince her to join Eagle Fang that first time, and now here he was begging her to again. Didn’t that show he cared…? But what of it? She was in way too deep now. She had to see this fight through to the end. Because, in the end, winning was the only thing that would matter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, even if she did want to switch sides and join Eagle Fang, she’d burned that bridge when she fractured Hawk’s kneecap. Was she supposed to believe even the ex-Cobras would welcome her back after that? This was a trap.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No, the only place left for her was Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Another scowl marred her face as Tory pivoted on her heel and reopened the door to her apartment. Before she went inside and slammed the door in Miguel’s face, she warned him, “You better be ready by the Tournament because you’ll be getting no mercy from me!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Pressure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em>Although the crowd was cheering at the top of their lungs in the bleachers, Miguel could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heartbeat, the slow inhale and exhale of his breath. He stepped into the circle on the blue-and-gold mats, staring ahead at the hostile line of Cobras standing at the edge across from him.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Kyler glowered at him, and beside him, Tory did the same. Either of them looked like they would have loved to tear him apart. And between them, Sensei Kreese’s smile was as insincere as a serpent’s as he nodded for his new champion to join Miguel on the mats.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Robby locked his eyes on him. Miguel’s breath caught in the back of his throat. His fingers twitched by his sides, and he curled them into tight fists to keep his hands from shaking. This was it. This was the moment he’d been training for.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Miguel glanced over his shoulder, looking for Sensei Lawrence or Hawk or any of the others for last-second support. He gasped, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead upon discovering the Eagle Fangs were nowhere in sight. Neither were Mr. LaRusso, Sam, or the rest of Miyagi-Do. His eyes quickly scanned the crowd of spectators, scoping for his mother and grandmother, but the crowd was nothing more than a loud, faceless monolith. And Miguel realized he was alone.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Strike first!”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Miguel whipped back around and only had a second to throw his arms up to block an incoming kick from his opponent. Robby recovered fast, spinning around like a tornado to deliver a backhanded punch to Miguel’s ribs, sending him double-over with a groan with the force of the hit.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Strike hard!”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>There was no break to declare the point. Miguel grimaced when Robby kept going. He ducked, evading his enemy’s roundhouse kick, and then swept his own leg out, hoping to wipe Robby off his feet. But the other boy jumped in the air, flipping straight over his head to land safely behind him. Miguel didn’t have enough time to turn around and defend himself before Robby’s fist slammed between his shoulder blades.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Miguel stumbled forward, catching his footing before he fell over, and he gritted his teeth at catching the sight of Sensei Kreese’s cold smirk greeting him from the sidelines. He was mocking him, amused by how badly the previous All-Valley champion was performing in front of their audience. And he saw the old man mouth the words to his star student.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No mercy!”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Twisting his waist, Miguel raised his arm to block Robby’s backhanded punch, and he retaliated with his own forward hit, aiming his knuckles at Robby’s chest. His opponent jumped back, swinging his leg to try and kick his face. Miguel ducked, closing the gap and directing another punch. Robby pushed his arm out of the way harmlessly, and Miguel leaped backward to avoid his follow-up kick.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Robby didn’t stop, swinging back around at Miguel as fast as lightning with another kick. This time, Miguel wasn’t fast enough to defend himself. His enemy’s foot made contact with his exposed chest, and suddenly Miguel was falling.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Winner, Robby!” came the thundering announcement. “Victory goes to Cobra Kai!”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Cobra Kai, Cobra Kai, Cobra Kai….</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>As the chant carried like a wave, Miguel expected his back to finally hit the mat. But he kept falling and falling, as if kicked from a much greater height. And when he looked up, Robby was no longer standing in front of him on the mats, but was instead staring down at him from over a balcony. And he simply watched while Miguel fell, fell, fell, plummeting to the stairs below….</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“No!” Miguel’s eyes snapped open, his head jolting up from his pillow while the single word escaped from his throat.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">As his vision adjusted to the darkness of his bedroom, the sole light coming from the alarm clocking on his nightstand showing him it was only 4:27 AM, he raised a shaky hand to wipe the sweat pouring from his forehead.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">A nightmare, he realized, shoulders rising and falling to his rapid breaths while he attempted to relax. It had been a while since he’d had one like that plague the theater of his mind. Just a dream, was all, he reminded himself. Nothing about it had to be a prophecy. Nothing in it had to come true. Robby wasn’t going to hurt him like that again.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Once his sight had acclimated, Miguel’s gaze drifted over to his desk, where the dim, blue light from the alarm clock reflected off the metal of his championship trophy. He stared at it there in the silence of his room, not breaking until he had to blink back the sweat that had dripped into his eyes.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Wiping at them with the heel of his palm, he then turned over in his bed and rested his head back on the pillow. He let his eyes linger on his trophy until his heavy lids closed for another attempt at sleep, hoping this time his dreams would be more peaceful.</p><p class="p3"> </p><hr/><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">The water splashed when Miguel tossed a small pebble into the koi pond. He watched the ripples travel farther and farther from the drop point while he continued picking blades of grass absent-mindedly with his fingers. His brow was furrowed in deep thought, which dulled out the chatter from everyone around him while they all took an extended break at the Senseis’ orders.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">One week. They were finally down to the last week before the All-Valley Tournament. What seemed like forever ago was now upon them. The future of karate in the Valley rested on the outcome of what was going to happen in seven measly days.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">And Miguel wanted to pull his hair out just thinking about it. He settled on pulling out grass instead, but that didn’t help much with the knowledge that so much was coming to a head here soon. He couldn’t help catastrophizing. He never used to be prone to it. He certainly hadn’t been anywhere near this worried before last year’s Tournament, but a lot less had been riding on that one.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">What if he lost? What if they all lost to Cobra Kai? What if Kreese won and forced Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso to close their dojos? Miguel already had Cobra Kai taken away from him, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing Eagle Fang, too. To say nothing of the long-term consequences of Kreese’s style of karate spreading across the Valley.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">They had to win. <em>He</em> had to win. The whole Valley was depending on him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel yanked out another fistful of grass, tearing the blades into smaller pieces in his hands. His eyes lingered on the false tranquility on the surface of the koi pond, now that the ripples had dissipated.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” came a voice at his side. Miguel glanced up to see Sam standing there, giving him a small, almost timid smile.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He stood up, wiping the loose grass blades from his shorts. “Hey,” he replied back.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Something wrong?” asked Sam, keeping a casual air as she inquired it. “You look like you've got a lot on your mind.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">It sounded like an invitation to unload, as a friend might offer. It was probably the most at-ease they’d been with each other since their break up. So Miguel returned her smile and accepted her offer to lend an ear.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess I’m still a little worried about how the All-Valley’s gonna go,” he confessed. That was the understatement of the century. “Wouldn’t mind having another month to practice, and not just because that would put Hawk back in the Tournament.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sam rolled her shoulders. “We’ve all been training so hard, I don’t think a month would make much of a difference at this point,” she said. “Plus, that would only give Cobra Kai more time to improve, too. I think we’re all as ready as we’re ever going to be.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“You got a point there,” Miguel had to admit.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Standing up straighter, Sam crossed her arms and let the smile on her face brighten up so it was friendlier and a little less timid. “And I know you’re upset about Hawk being out of the Tournament,” she said, “but you should have more faith in the rest of us.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded, glancing across the yard over at the other guys, who were congregated by the water cooler talking with one another. “I do,” he said, turning his eyes back on Sam. “And, I mean, I know <em>you’re</em> gonna do great.” Of course she would. Sam was one of the most skilled fighters in the dojo. Miguel would have been shocked if she didn’t make it to at least the semi-finals. If he was lucky, perhaps he would be facing her in the finals, instead of Robby.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“And don’t think you got the championship in the bag,” said Sam, arching an eyebrow at him, almost like she’d read his mind about them fighting in the last round. “I’ve got my own eye on that title. And I already picked out a place in my room for the trophy, although I suspect my dad’s gonna want it to go into the home dojo, along with his two All-Valley championship trophies.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel chuckled. “Well, good luck with that,” he offered. “I’m still thinking that trophy would look better next to my own. No offense.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">A light-hearted giggle followed that remark, but then Sam’s grin eased back into its former shyness. She bit her bottom lip and shrank into her shoulders some. “Listen, Miguel, about us?” she asked, staring at him now with eyes sadder than before. “I really did want it to work.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s vision fell to his shoes for a moment, then he nodded again. “I know,” he said, raising his sight back to her. “I did, too. And I hope we can still be friends.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“I’d like that, too,” Sam offered back.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He knew from her tone and the look on her face his words weren’t much of a comfort for any heartache he might have caused her, but they were nevertheless true. If the circumstances of them getting back together hadn’t been wrapped up in both of them having so many hangups about each other’s exes, perhaps the karate war wouldn’t have been the tipping point that drove them to separate again in the first place. But feelings had been raw and words had been said.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He wished he’d been more mature. But he wanted to be more sensible with his reality now. A part of him would always care for Sam, and if she ever needed him, he’d be there for her. But he’d finally moved on. He was with Hawk now.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Still, Miguel gave Sam a warm grin and hoped that showed her he wished nothing more than that she would also find luck with someone else who would make her happy, too.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder, Miguel turned around and looked over to find Hawk again. Spotting him talking with the guys, he made his way over the group by the water cooler, picking up on their conversation as he closed the gap between them.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“For real, Hawk, it’s no big deal,” said Mitch, shrugging his shoulders. “I can give you a ride on my bike. We should be able to tie your crutches down or something, we’ll figure it out.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri let out a single, dismissive laugh. “So you can break his other leg on that deathtrap?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, that does sound like a boneheaded idea, Mitch,” agreed Chris, staring at him with an unimpressed expression on his face.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Mitch narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see <em>you</em> volunteering to drive him,” he threw back.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“C’mon, man, <em>I</em> got work after practice, you know that,” retorted Chris.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“What’s going on?” asked Miguel, stepping up to stand between Hawk and Mitch.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk told him, “I need a ride to the tattoo parlor. I gotta get Rico to touch up the hawk on my back since I changed my hair color.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You seriously can’t wait until you get your brace taken off?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I can’t,” stated Hawk bluntly, giving his friend a hard look that showed he wasn’t exaggerating.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Eagle Fangs! Crowd around!”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">At that order, they all turned their heads to watch Sensei Lawrence step through the open door leading into the backyard, carrying a big cardboard box in his hands. Dropping the box on the porch, he gestured to the Miyagi-Do students and said, “The rest of you, go drink some water or do some meditation or something.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">His flippant dismissal didn’t persuade the Miyagi-Dos to stray too far, with Demetri and Chris muttering some choice remarks under their breath about Sensei Lawrence’s continued lack of social graces, but the students from his dojo strolled over to stand in front of him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Sensei, what’s in the box?” asked Mitch.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s the week before the All-Valley, what do you think?” shot back Sensei Lawrence, reaching down to open the box. “It’s your new gis.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel, Hawk, Mitch, Bert, all the Eagle Fangs exchanged excited faces at that news, grinning from ear-to-ear. The time had been so quickly approaching, Miguel had started to worry they might not get new uniforms in time, or that they’d be forced to wear the emblem of Miyagi-Do. And he meant no offense to that dojo, he’d come to learn a lot from Mr. LaRusso after all, but Miguel wanted to make sure when they faced Cobra Kai, that they were fighting for Eagle Fang.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Diaz!” called out Sensei Lawrence, picking up the folded gi at the top of the stack and presenting it to Miguel.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Once he took it in his hands, Miguel unfolded it to examine. It was very similar in appearance to the old Cobra Kai gis they’d worn at the previous year’s All-Valley Tournament, a carbon copy he might even say. Sensei had clearly ripped off the style, which was fine in Miguel’s opinion. Black, sleeveless, although these new ones had red trimming where there had previously been yellow. And when Miguel turned it over, there was the Eagle Fang logo embroidered on the back.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">A smile curled around the corner of Miguel’s mouth as he took it all in and ran his hand over the eagle’s head.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Accepting his own uniform while Sensei Lawrence called up Bert to collect his, Mitch turned to Miguel and exclaimed, “Oh man, these are so badass!”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” agreed Hawk, looking down at the uniforms in his friends' hands, “at least you guys won’t have to wear the Miyagi-Do colors.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Hawk!”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s head flew up at the sound of his name, worried for a second he was going to be reprimanded by Sensei Lawrence for his slight dig. But Sensei Lawrence only stood there, holding out a uniform for him, inviting him to take it. “I get one?” he asked, eyebrows rising in surprise. “But I can’t fight.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but I still expect you to stand by your team,” stated Sensei Lawrence as Hawk hobbled the couple of strides up to him. “This isn’t Cobra Kai, we don’t toss our students out just because they can’t fight. Eagles fly as a flock, together.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Well, actually, eagles are solitary hunters,” pointed out Bert.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence shot his young student a look and said, “I know what I’m talking about, Bert.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk accepted his gi graciously and even smirked when Sensei Lawrence gave him a firm pat on the back before he turned around to return to the others.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“And you’ll look way more badass wearing that than a cheerleading outfit, right?” joked Mitch with a snort.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel backhanded him for it, but Hawk joked right back, “If you want me to come up with a special cheer just for you when you kick some Cobra ass, just say so. But you know what rhymes best with Mitch, don’t you?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Ha! Right on, dude,” Mitch laughed, punching Hawk playfully on the shoulder.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">While the other guys shuffled over to pack their new gis away into their gym bags, Miguel walked up to Sensei Lawrence again, grasping the uniform tightly in his hands, almost hugging it close to him. His stomach clenched, and he wondered if he really should voice the concern lingering at the tip of his tongue. “Sensei, can I ask a question?” he inquired, deciding to go for it, shifting the weight on his legs while he stood there beside him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Tossing the now-empty cardboard box aside, Sensei Lawrence wiped his hands on his joggers and answered, “Go for it.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Licking his bottom lip nervously, Miguel came out with it and asked, “Do you want me to win the All-Valley Tournament?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence almost did a double-take. Scrunching his brows to the bridge of his nose, he retorted, “What kind of stupid question is that?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Doubt flooded over Miguel, realizing how insecure and childish he must have sounded asking such a question. Yet he powered forward. This was something he needed to get off his chest now, or he never would before the Tournament. “Sensei, I’m serious,” he said. “Back in April, Mr. LaRusso had a talk with me about how it’s been taking a toll on you, training us knowing we’ll be facing against Robby at the All-Valley.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence sighed in aggravation and rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand down his haggard face. “Yeah, that sounds about right for LaRusso,” he muttered, eyes flashing to the inside of the dojo, where Mr. LaRusso probably was. “Always sticking his nose in my business.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Unable to hold it in anymore, Miguel blurted out his real concern. “If it comes down to it, who do you want to see win in the finals, me or Robby?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence’s face tightened, but Miguel stayed on his eyes. Sensei couldn’t mask the unhappiness that came over them, even if he hid the rest of his expression behind the same stoic veneer he always did whenever a difficult subject came between the two of them. And after a long minute of silence, Sensei finally said, “I…I can’t answer that question.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Swallowing the lump that had been jumping up and down in his throat, Miguel felt like his stomach dropped at hearing that reply. He couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he’d actually expected any other response, however. After all, what did he really imagine Sensei Lawrence would say to that? That he’d assure him he wanted Miguel to beat his son again? Especially with so much riding on this? Sensei would never want to see that, ever.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay,” he mumbled, taking a couple of steps back. “I understand.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel turned around to walk away, hanging his head down and mentally berating himself for even broaching that subject with his Sensei in the first place. There was no way around it. As much as he thought fighting Robby at the All-Valley might give him some closure for what had happened between them, Miguel now hoped someone else would get to fight Robby and knock him out first. At least then Sensei wouldn’t be disappointed in him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He wanted to win. But he didn’t want it to feel wrong if he did.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Miguel, wait.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “Sensei?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence closed the gap between them. “I don’t want you to be worried about any of that at the Tournament, alright?” he said, placing a hand on Miguel’s shoulder and giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze. “I’ve watched you train your ass off. You deserve your shot at being a two-time champ. Robby’s my responsibility, not yours. As long as you fight your hardest and fight fair, I’ll be proud of you, no matter what happens.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel wanted to convince himself those words were enough to untwist the knots tugging at his stomach. And a part of him was genuinely glad to hear his Sensei assure him he’d be proud, regardless of the outcome. A part of him needed to hear that. So why did Sensei’s words also make him feel a little sick?</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Standing there as awkwardly as he was at that moment, Miguel understood then that there was no way to guarantee how things would play out until they actually did. He needed to prepare himself for anything to happen, whether it be the best or the worst. Which would be easier said than done.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, Sensei,” Miguel replied with a small smile, stepping away to join the others where they all stood next to their bags.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk leaned on his crutches, glancing between Sensei Lawrence and Miguel as the latter knelt down on the porch to put away his gi in his backpack. “Everything good?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Yep,” answered Miguel, zipping his backpack before tossing it back on the porch and standing up. This wasn’t something he could go deep into with Hawk. He didn’t understand the predicament he was in. Hawk would just tell him to kick Robby’s ass and screw what Sensei Lawrence thought about it. He almost wished he could have that cavalier attitude about it, too. “Just needed to check with Sensei about something, that’s all."</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Speaking of Sensei,” said Hawk, “you think he’d drop me off at the tattoo parlor on the way home?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel laughed and shook his head. Hawk really was committed to getting his tattoo touched up asap. It made him wish he had a car so he could drive him there himself. “Actually, he might if you ask him.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk grinned. “Wanna come with?” he asked. “There’s a B-Dubs next door to the parlor, we could catch the Lakers game and scarf some wings. Then I’ll pay for the Uber back.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“The cabin fever’s really been getting to you, hasn’t it?” asked Miguel, grimacing with sympathy. He was beginning to feel it second-hand the more time they spent together stuck at Hawk’s house, and he’d already gotten plenty of it himself when he’d been secluded at home during his recovery. Hawk was at least fortunate enough to be around all of them at the dojo while his knee healed.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s killing me, man,” Hawk chuckled. “I can’t wait to get this brace off at the end of the month. After that, you and me are hitting the PCH. Maybe I’ll take you to a real biker bar so you can get shitfaced to celebrate your All-Valley victory. But until then, B-Dubs is about the best I can do.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Patting Hawk on the back, Miguel’s smile reached his eyes as he told him, “It’s a date.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, everyone, can I have all of your attention over here for a moment?”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone’s heads turned around again to the door as this time it was Mr. LaRusso stepping out onto the porch, clapping his hands together. Sensei Lawrence came up to stand next to him, arms crossed over his chest, giving him a look that Miguel could only guess had to do with what he told him about Robby, and he imagined they were going to have an argument over it later.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">In the meantime, though, Mr. LaRusso continued to address the group. “Y’know, I look at all of you now and sometimes I still can’t believe how far each of you has come over the last several months. And not just individually, but as a team. Back in January, there were seriously days when I didn’t think merging the dojos was gonna work out. But although it’s been a rough go at times, I’ve watched with my own eyes while Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang have worked together, overcome our differences, and become stronger for it.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">The students all grinned at each other. Whereat the beginning of the year, there had been many lingering feelings of apprehension, distrust, and enmity, now there were healing friendships, light-hearted rivalries, and the beginnings of new relationships entirely.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“And I wish that could have happened without the threat of Cobra Kai hanging over all of you,” said Mr. LaRusso, a somber timbre softening his previous tone of pride. “Over the past few weeks, it’s really hit me, the pressure we’ve been putting on you kids. Sensei Lawrence and I have talked it over, and we agree we really owe you an apology. For agreeing to Kreese’s game. For not doing more to take care of the problem ourselves. Mr. Miyagi told me karate was meant to defend honor, to defend a life, for it to mean something. And I thought by agreeing to face Kreese at the All-Valley, that was defending something important. But it wasn’t our place to put that on you.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">He paused and stood there like a statue for a few seconds, a look of immeasurable guilt on his face. And when Miguel stared over beside him at Sensei Lawrence, he saw the same expression of shame in his teacher’s features, as well. Miguel suspected his mother really had had a talk with Sensei about the strain he’d been struggling with while training for the Tournament.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s too late to take everything back now,” intercut Sensei Lawrence, addressing the group. “And I’m not gonna stand here and tell you guys you can’t enter the Tournament. I want to see all of you get a chance to get on the mats and kick some ass. But I want you to fight for the right reason. Fight for your own sense of honor. Fight to be your personal best. Don’t worry about Cobra Kai. Don’t worry about Kreese. In fact, over the next few days, I don’t want any of you to worry about anything at all.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">Arching an eyebrow, Mr. LaRusso clarified, “What Sensei Lawrence means is, you kids have been working hard enough. You’ve more than earned a chance to relax. And that’s why, on Friday, you’re all invited to my house for a pool party.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. The Pool Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Cannonball!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate and Bert both flinched when Chris darted up and jumped into deep end of the pool where they were swimming, causing a big wave that splashed water in their faces, knocking Bert’s glasses right off. And no sooner did he retrieve them and they both wiped the chlorine from their eyes than Mitch came running close behind his friend.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Jack Knife!” he yelled, leaping off the edge and grabbing his right knee to pull to the side before hitting the water and making waves of his own. He knocked Bert’s glasses off his face again with the resulting splash.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Mitch’s head broke the surface, spitting water from his mouth like a fountain, Chris’s grinning face greeted him. “Excellent!” he exclaimed, clapping Mitch’s hand in a congratulatory high-five.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, be careful, you two,” said Mr. LaRusso from where he was standing nearby next to his grill. Pointing at them with his spatula, he explained, “The pool’s not really deep enough to be doing any fancy diving tricks.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sitting in the lawn chair beside him, Sensei Lawrence rolled his eyes. “Please, now you’re gonna pretend you can get a concussion underwater?” he asked with thinly-veiled sarcasm before tipping the can in his hand back to gulp down some Diet Coke.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As he stood there with an empty plate, waiting for Mr. LaRusso to finish grilling his first batch of burgers, Miguel studied Sensei Lawrence’s face. He looked like he would have much preferred to be drinking a Coors Banquet instead. Time would only tell if this recent attempt at sobriety would turn out better than the previous tries.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Sensei,” said Miguel, shifting the weight between his legs, “about tomorrow….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence held up a hand in a flash, cutting him off at the starting gate. “I don’t wanna hear it. Nothing about the Tournament. Whatever it is, it can wait, alright? We told you guys, don’t worry about that. Just relax and stuff your face or go jump in the pool.” He downed another gulp of Diet Coke, finishing the can.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel had no choice but to nod. “Yes, Sensei.” It sounded like Sensei Lawrence was trying to convince himself not to worry about things more than anybody else. Little wonder why. He wanted to ask Sensei if he’d taken his last chance to reach out to Robby before it was too late. The last opportunity to stop things before whatever happened tomorrow happened.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Judging by the somber look on his face, even as he tried to mask it, Miguel guessed he had. And it hadn’t worked. He could only speculate how his Sensei must have been feeling about the big day. He bet the pit in his stomach was much deeper than the one digging in his own.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Viola,” announced Mr. LaRusso, placing a grilled patty on the open-faced bun at the center of Miguel’s plate before topping it with a slice of cheese. “The Famous LaRusso Limburger Burger.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence let out a single, derisive, unimpressed laugh. “Those are <em>real</em> meat patties, right?” he asked, eyeing the patties on the grill. “You’re not gonna make us eat the veggie shit, are you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the Senseis started arguing over the food being served at the party, Miguel’s eyes drifted over to the pool to watch the other guys as they goofed around. Chris grabbed Mitch around his chest and, pulling a move right out of a pro-wrestling show, flipped him underwater. Bert, meanwhile, continued in vain to try to wipe the droplets from his lenses.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Swimming around Bert, Nate pointed out, “I told you you should’ve switched to contacts like me. The second time I got my glasses broken in a fight, I was, like, fuck that. Haven’t looked back since.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Chicks like guys with glasses,” argued Bert.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate scoffed and splashed some more water in Bert’s face. “What chicks?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Putting his glasses back on, Bert retaliated back at him with another splash, and the two boys commenced a full-on water fight. They got so into it, the their waves started hitting outside the edge and onto the legs of Yasmine, who sat at the end of the nearest pool chair. She yelped when the cool water splashed her skin and shot Nate and Bert an icy glare for their incautious horseplay.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Hobbits, watch it!” demanded Demetri from where he sat behind his girlfriend on their lounge chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But just when Nate and Bert looked like they might stop, a blur rushed past Demetri and Yasmine, screaming, “Can-Opener!” Anthony LaRusso leaped off the edge, hugging his left knee close to his body, and careened right into Bert and Nate, sending all three boys under the water, splashing Yasmine again while he did it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Chris and Mitch cheered at the display, Demetri suggested to Yasmine, “Maybe we should pick a chair a little further away from the pool.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heh, yeah, probably a good idea if you guys wanna avoid getting soaked,” chuckled Hawk from the chair beside theirs, lifting his sunglasses to peek at the two as Demetri collected Yasmine’s belongings and shuffled them to the chair on the other side of Sam, who’d been lounging on their left.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Demetri set her bag down, Yasmine grabbed the can of suntan spray on top and held it out to him. “Don’t forget to get my lower back,” she said with a wink, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the new chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk caught the way Demetri’s smirk spread up the side of his face. “Oh yeah, I’ll make sure it’s all rubbed in, nice and thorough,” said Demetri, popping the cap off. “Don’t wanna take any unnecessary risks, what with the whole ozone layer looking like Swiss cheese these days.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Speaking of cheese, here’s your burger, Hawk,” announced Miguel as he came up to where they were all lounging, offering the plate and cup in his hands to Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, man,” said Hawk, sitting up straight and accepting them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t get used to this delivery service,” joked Miguel, patting his shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking a sip of his drink, Hawk asked him, “Aren’t you gonna eat?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Shrugging, Miguel answered, “Meh, not hungry.” His stomach had been clenched tight like someone had their fist wrapped around it all day, thinking about what was happening tomorrow. So instead of eating, he took his towel, stretched it out over the now-vacant lounge chair beside Hawk, and laid stomach-down on it. Laying his chin on his arms, he stared out again at the guys playing around in the water for a minute before resting his eyes and letting the sun soak his back. He would <em>force</em> himself to relax, if necessary.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Glancing at Hawk’s plate while he ate his burger, Yasmine turned around and said, “Demetri, think you can be a dear and see if there’s anything over there I can eat?” She ran a finger down his cheek for extra encouragement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s face flushed bright red. “Uh yeah, of course,” he stammered, practically tripping over his long legs as he raced to stand up. Patting his skinny gut, he said, “I could use a burger myself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yasmine, if you’re back to not eating meat, my dad could grill you a veggie burger instead,” offered Sam, picking at her fingernails.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hmm, actually, get me some of that macaroni salad,” Yasmine called out to Demetri while he was walking away. Reaching over into her bag, she eyed Sam and said, “Your mom does make a pretty bomb macaroni salad.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam just smiled and giggled some under her breath, like she was in on a joke only she understood. She watched Yasmine pull out her sunhat from the bag and situate it on her head before stretching out on the chair, looking like she was ready to catch some rays like the rest of them. “Not much like the last party we had over here, huh?” she asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sliding her sunglasses on, Yasmine agreed, “Definitely not.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris popped up at the edge of the pool. “Hey, Sam, do you guys got a net for some water volleyball?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Uh, yeah,” answered Sam. “Go ask Anthony to check the garage, I think that’s where Dad stored it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She looked over at her little brother, who turned over to their father and called out, “Hey Dad, can you bring us over some drinks? We’re thirsty!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You wanna jump in and join us?” asked Chris, bringing Sam’s attention back to her teammate. “We could use another player, otherwise it’s gonna be three-against-two. And, I mean, I’m cool with me and Nate destroying your little bro in a game of volleyball on our own, but I thought I’d give you the chance to join us, too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Biting her bottom lip for a moment, Sam shook her head. “Sorry, maybe later.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Chris shrugged and swam away, Yasmine raised an eyebrow over her reflective sunglasses at Sam. “What’s up with you?” she asked. “You’ve been a drag ever since this party started. I mean, I know there aren’t a ton of hot guys to scope out here—”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t be mean,” chided Sam.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m just asking, what’s up?” Yasmine clarified.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Picking at her fingernails again, Sam stared past her friend at Miguel and Hawk. Miguel still had his eyes closed while he sunbathed, but Sam was sure he was listening. And she felt Hawk’s eyes staring at her from behind his sunglasses, too. “I know we’re all supposed to be having a fun time,” she answered, “but it doesn’t change the fact that the All-Valley Tournament is tomorrow morning.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Yasmine made a face. “Ugh, I’m gonna be so glad once all this karate talk is done and over with.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Demetri didn’t explain how important this Tournament is?” inquired Hawk after swallowing another drink from his cup. “Because if Cobra Kai wins, the battle for the Valley is just beginning.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That got Miguel to crack open his eyes and lift himself up on his shoulders, paying closer attention to the conversation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Karate doesn’t rule his life, or most of the Valley’s, like it does all of yours,” said Yasmine, eyeing Hawk, Miguel, and then Sam, like they were all out of their minds. “Like, so what’s the big deal if those Cobra guys win? What, they’ll continue to act like assholes? What’s the difference if they’re just assholes with a trophy now? It’s not like it’s gonna be the end of the world. Honestly, all of you would be better off getting a life outside karate.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Well articulated, queen,” praised Demetri upon returning and catching his girlfriend’s speech, handing Yasmine her plate of macaroni salad and a drink.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Easy for you to say, Demetri,” said Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You don’t have as much riding on this,” Miguel said, the corners of his mouth creasing in a frown. Yasmine was right about one thing. Karate didn’t mean the same thing to Demetri that it meant to him. “Like you said before, this is just going on your college resume, nothing more, right? You don’t have any real clue what’s riding on the outcome tomorrow. You gave up on Cobra Kai from the very start, you don't care at all about what fighting the dojo me, Hawk, Bert, and the others represented last year means. And you don’t have to worry about upsetting Mr. LaRusso if you, by some miracle, beat Robby, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri, Hawk, and Sam all stared at him, various levels of surprised expressions etched on their faces in the wake of his small outburst. At least it wasn’t as heated as some of his others. But that didn’t stop Miguel’s cheeks from warming in embarrassment, or keep him from regretting saying those words. Of course Demetri would want to see Cobra Kai lose. He’d had more than his fair share of problems ever since Sensei Kreese entered the picture, too. They all had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Wow, yikes,” muttered Demetri with an indignant huff. Miguel let him have it without comment.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Yasmine lifted her sunglasses and squinted at Miguel. “So it sounds like the reason this is a big deal to you is because of drama between you and Robby. But what happens if you don’t fight Robby tomorrow? Like, are you guaranteed a fight? How do these things even work?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It all really depends,” Sam tried to explain. “Who makes it past the qualifying round, how they set up the fighting brackets. Depending on those things, we could end up fighting anyone. Like, Miguel, you know you might not even have to fight Robby at all, right? Who knows, maybe <em>I’ll</em> fight him. You just can’t know for sure. I’m crossing my fingers that Tory doesn’t even make it past the qualifying rounds, or honestly <em>any</em> of the Cobra Kais, including Robby, but you know you have to be ready for anything to happen. We all do because nothing’s guaranteed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel licked his bottom lip in nervousness as he listened to Sam, his stomach clenching tighter, knowing what she was saying wasn’t wrong. <em>Anything</em> could happen.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before Miguel could say anything in return, Nate’s voice suddenly called out, “Head’s up!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A volleyball came flying at the group, and Miguel had just enough of a quick reflex to sit up and reach out his hand to smack it back to the pool from which it came. Mitch caught it, then both he and Chris waddled over to the edge of the pool.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, what’s going on with you guys? Are you just gonna lie around all day and talk about the All-Valley?” asked Mitch. “It’s Eagle Fangs versus Miyagi-Dos out here, and we got Anthony. Jump in and join the game. I mean, obviously you can’t, Hawk, but Miguel, dude, we could use those fast reflexes. Bert’s glasses keep getting waterlogged, we’re losing by four now. We could use you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris added, “And if Miguel’s game, you really should reconsider, Sam.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri laid a hand over his chest, looking offended. “What, I don’t get an invite?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you good at volleyball?” interrogated Chris, arching a skeptical eyebrow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fair point,” conceded Demetri with a nod.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Besides,” said Mitch, “didn’t Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence say not to worry about the Tournament? I mean, it is what it is at this point. Shouldn’t we just have some fun for now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel sighed, trying to think of a good reason to turn down the offer. But then he turned his head when he felt Hawk clap his shoulder. “Go on,” Hawk urged him with a wide grin, letting his hand travel down to give an encouraging rub on his back. A bold gesture considering Sensei Lawrence wasn’t very far away, and he’d be hard-pressed to chalk it up to a platonic touch if Sensei saw them. “Give Miyagi-Do a taste of what they’re gonna be up against tomorrow.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Unable to come up with a counter-argument, and figuring Mitch and Chris were right, Miguel let a small smile replace his previous frown. He turned to Sam, raising his eyebrows. “I’m up for it if you are, Sam,” he said, standing up from his chair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam stopped picking at her fingernails and let a relaxing smile spread over her face, too. “I guess we should enjoy some friendly competition while we still have a chance, huh? Okay, okay, I’m in.” Taking off her hat and sunglasses, she and Miguel joined their friends in the water.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as they began their next round, Mr. LaRusso stepped up to the kids, standing between the group in their chairs and the ones in the pool. “Hey, isn’t anyone gonna get out of the pool and come eat some burgers?” he asked, opening his arms, the spatula still grasped firmly in one of his hands. “What, are you expecting poolside delivery?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In the water, Anthony cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Heck yeah we are. And while you’re at it, when are you gonna bring us some freaking drinks already?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At Miguel’s request that evening, Hawk didn’t have Sensei Lawrence drop him off at his house, choosing instead to join Miguel back to Reseda Heights. At first, Hawk thought Miguel just wanted to take advantage of the fact that his mother was going to be at work for a few more hours, and his grandma was out with her friends, so they’d have the apartment to themselves. And while Miguel assured him that was part of it, it quickly became apparent what he wanted more than anything at that moment was some close company.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, champ, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” asked Hawk after they situated themselves on the living room couch, a reassuring grin plastered on his face. Giving Miguel a light punch on the shoulder, he inquired, “Ready to lay the smackdown on all those Cobra douchebags?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s eyes feel down to stare at where his hands were resting on his knees. “Uh, yeah. Definitely.” The truth was, he felt like he was going to throw up. The anxiety had been culminating for months and months and now it had reached the boiling point. But, in a way, Miguel was happy about that. Because in twenty-four hours, it would at least finally be over. He told himself over and over he could handle whatever happened, because there was no way it could be worse than the anticipation had been.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk raised an eyebrow. And, catching that look, Miguel knew must have been wearing his ambivalence openly on his face. “About what you told Demetri today at Mr. LaRusso’s….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Running a hand through his hair, Miguel tried to explain, “I keep thinking, I <em>have</em> to fight Robby. I mean, that’s what Kreese wants, I <em>know</em> that’s what he wants. And part of me really wants this, too, because it really feels like it’s the only way to end things between us. I mean, that’s how things should be, right? What other way can it happen? But there’s another part of me that really, really hopes I won’t have to, that maybe someone else will take him out of the Tournament first.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Because of Sensei?” asked Hawk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking a little more into the couch. “That’s part of it, yeah,” he answered. Would it be so hard for the universe to throw him that bit of mercy? If he had learned how to show some, didn’t the universe owe him a little good karma in return? Didn’t it owe it to him after everything he’d been through?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He mentally kicked himself, knowing that wasn’t how things worked. He, more than anyone, hard learned the hard lesson that wasn’t how the universe operated. But he could hope….</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk sighed. It sounded like a deeply irritated one as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand why Sensei doesn’t just take care of Robby himself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sometimes it still surprised Miguel that Hawk seemed to pick up on things that were specifically bothering him without him having to just lay it all out in the open. He wondered if he was simply that much of an open book. At least when it came to Sensei, he guessed he was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s what I told him,” said Miguel, remembering that night at Mitch’s house. And he had the feeling Sensei Lawrence <em>had</em> tried dealing with Robby, and for whatever reason couldn’t get him away from Kreese. But he’d been too worried to ask for more details after that night. And he still didn’t understand why Sensei couldn’t just drag his son out of the dojo. But, regardless of the reason, the fact remained that Robby was still at Cobra Kai and would be fighting for that dojo the next morning.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You know if I were fighting tomorrow, I’d just deal with him for you, let Sensei get mad at me instead for kicking his son’s ass,” Hawk reminded him, a sardonic smirk curling up the side of his face. “But I know you don’t need me to beat any of those guys. You got this, man.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel nodded. “I know.” He wanted to tell Hawk he wished with all his being that he would be there fighting beside him, that they could have faced off together for that championship title. There was no one else he would have preferred to fight to earn the accolades of a two-time champ. But he knew Hawk was aware of that. And wishing it wouldn’t make it come true. There was no point picking at that wound, especially if Hawk had done his part to make peace with it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And anyway, if pigs fly and Keene wins, I’ll just put him in his place in the parking lot for you. Although that’d be kinda hard to pull off with a leg brace,” joked Hawk with an uncomfortable, breathy laugh. Letting his witty smile soften, he stared at Miguel and asked more sincerely, “So tell me, what <em>can</em> I do to help?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now it was Miguel who chuckled. “Distract me, maybe?” he suggested, almost with a wince. He sounded desperate, pitiful even to his own ears.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk looked amused by the request, however. “Distract you, huh?” he asked, scooting a bit closer, as much as the footrest his leg was propped up on would allow. Given the invitation, Miguel closed the gap between them on the couch instead. Hawk then ran his hand up his arm slowly. “Give you something else to think about besides the All-Valley?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk’s hand continued traveling past his shoulder, not stopping until it came up to cup his jaw. And when his thumb stroked his cheek, Miguel sighed, letting the tension in his back muscles unwind. He wondered if Hawk could feel the heat that was starting to warm his face. “Yeah….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a brief moment, he thought about if he should bring up the subject of coming out to Sensei Lawrence again. Ever since Hawk came back to Eagle Fang after his fight with Cobra Kai, the wide chasm between him and Sensei had seemed to narrow. And after Hawk had shown him such an intimate gesture earlier at the pool party, Miguel considered the possibility that meant Hawk might be more reciprocating to the idea of telling him now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But after mulling over it for a few seconds, Miguel decided against it. Not because he was worried about what Hawk might say but because there was simply too much going on. Thinking with a clearer head, he couldn’t imagine a worst time to drop such a bombshell on Sensei Lawrence than the night before the All-Valley Tournament. Especially not knowing how Sensei would respond.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Besides, he didn’t want to slow down the momentum they had going now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk muttered in a low voice, “I bet I can do that….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel let Hawk guide him in for a kiss. He closed his eyes and lost himself to feeling the moment, feeling the touch of his boyfriend’s lips pressed against his own, feeling his other hand rest on his thigh, feeling what it was like to forget for just a moment what was waiting for him the next day. It surprised him how easy it was to feel all of those things at once as they sat pressed against each other on the couch like that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He kept his eyes shut and let out another sigh when Hawk broke their kiss, and his skin heating up more when Hawk’s mouth pressed the skin just under his jaw, making his pulse quicken. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I got your back,” he then heard Hawk murmur by his ear before feeling his lips under the lobe. “Always.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Hawk paid attention to his neck, Miguel opened his eyes, his breath hastening as he licked his bottom lip. He could have melted right then and there as Hawk reminded him of his loyalty, his <em>love</em> for him. Hawk had shown it to him many times since joining him at Eagle Fang. He’d joined Eagle Fang <em>because</em> he loved him. And hearing that declaration again emboldened him to make a move of his own. He could be as much a man of action, and he wanted to show his love in return.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk made a noise when Miguel suddenly shuffled to sit on the right side of his lap, bringing his hands around his face to draw him in for a deeper kiss. But whatever surprise Hawk might have experienced by his boldness, he returned the gesture by wrapping his arms around Miguel’s back, pulling him closer to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As their breaths began picking up even more, spurred on by each excited kiss, Hawk’s hands wandered down Miguel’s back, resting once they came to hover around his waistline. And as soon as Miguel released his mouth, he stared at him, brows raised and eyes electrified. “Yeah?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Feeling Hawk’s thumbs tracing around the waistband of his shorts, Miguel grinned back. “Yeah.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Qualifying Matches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel finished wrapping his black belt around his waist, winding it around once more before tying the knot. As he did so, he continued listening to the other guys chattering while they all finished getting dressed into their gis in the boys’ locker room. He couldn’t believe the day was finally here. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, thinking about how it was only a few minutes now before they would be stepping outside and starting the Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You always looked great in the black gi,” Hawk said, hobbling up beside him, a huge grin spread over his face and a suggestive eyebrow raised on his forehead. Balancing on his right crutch, he brought his left hand up to run it down Miguel’s arm. “Shows off your muscles.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel returned his smile, feeling the skin on his face warm up, and was about to make his own comment about how flattering the Eagle Fang gi looked on Hawk when someone else cut in first.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yo, take a look at the Bitch Brigade.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk dropped his hand in a flash at the sound of that voice, and the whole group turned their heads to see Kyler approach them, along with Dieter, Big Red, Mikey, Edwin, and Doug trailing behind him. Miguel narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw at the sight of Kyler standing there, fully dressed in the familiar black gi of Cobra Kai. The image looked so wrong to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before Miguel could respond, Mitch jumped in, taking a step toward their adversaries. “Hey Kyler, just so you know, the toilets are over here,” he chuckled, pointing to the other side of the locker room. “And if you need anymore Pepto, I got some in my gym bag.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk and Nate joined Mitch in laughing at that, remembering their sweet victory when they’d dumped MiraLAX into Kyler’s Powerade bottle that day in the school gym. And Miguel got a good laugh at the memory, too. It almost made him forget how uncanny it was to be facing his old rival now, seeing him wear the uniform of the dojo he’d worn at the previous year’s Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Kyler then joined in their merriment as well, snickering out loud with the rest of them, a big, insincere smile spread from ear to ear; and that got Miguel to remember where and when they were. “Pepto, that’s cute.” Kyler tilted his head to his left, and then to his right, as if to ascertain there were no adults present in the locker room with them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then Kyler’s smile melted into a scowl. Then, as quick as a cobra strike, his arms shot out and he shoved Mitch <em>hard</em>, sending the other boy crashing into Bert and Nate behind him. All three stumbled backward into the lockers before colliding into a heap on the floor, and this time the uproarious laughter from the Cobras wasn’t fake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel was about ready to leap straight at Kyler, but a new voice cut through the laughter before he could even finish raising his fists.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kyler, cut it out.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby Keene.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel narrowed his eyes, watching Robby part between the quiver of Cobras to come stand next to Kyler. And for as bad it was seeing Kyler in that familiar uniform, the sight of Robby wearing the sleeveless black gi had Miguel’s fists squeezing so tight by his sides it almost made his arms shake.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It only got worse when Robby locked his eyes on him. “Gotta save it for the Tournament, right?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel’s jaw clenched, returning his glare. He had so much he wanted to unload on Robby then and there. He was half-tempted to punch him, just to get get it over with between them. Screw having it out in front of an audience like Kreese had been hoping for. Miguel wanted to scream at him now, to take out all his frustrations that had been building just short of a year by that point. He wanted to hit and yell at Robby for kicking him over the stairs, for attacking him the moment he got out of juvie, for joining Cobra Kai and taking his place in the dojo, for cutting Hawk’s hair, for so, so many things.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But his fists stayed squeezed by his sides, and what came out of his mouth was, “You know you’re making your dad miserable doing this, don’t you? No matter what happens between us today, he won’t be happy with the outcome.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby shrugged. Miguel watched his features harden, and at that moment, Robby looked so much like Sensei Lawrence did whenever he hid his emotions behind a stoic veneer. “Good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam was standing outside with her father and Sensei Lawrence, waiting for her teammates as they came out of the locker room. She had already changed into her white gi, and even had her father’s headband wrapped around her head. “You guys ready?” she asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“If I don’t pass out from anxiety first,” quipped Demetri. “I think I preferred the view from the benches last year.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While the Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang students began grouping up, Mr. LaRusso said, “Don’t start getting neurotic again on me now, Demetri. All of you have been training a long time for this, and I don’t want you to let Cobra Kai intimidate you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, they should be intimidated by <em>us</em>,” argued Mitch from where he stood between Hawk and Bert. “I mean, between our two dojos, we outnumber them. We got this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t be getting cocky,” warned Sensei Lawrence. “But Mr. LaRusso is right. This is what you’ve all been training for, and you’re not gonna let Cobra Kai ruin this Tournament for you guys. You’re all gonna give it your best, you’re gonna go out there and kick some ass, and no matter what happens, your Senseis are gonna be proud of you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When his Sensei set his sight on him at the end of his little speech, Miguel knew that last part was for his ears specifically. And he wanted desperately to believe what he said was true.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do I make myself clear?” asked Sensei Lawrence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All the students in Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do responded, “Yes, Sensei!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With that, the two dojos broke up. Miyagi-Do went to go file behind Topanga, while Eagle Fang made their way to the end of the long line, which placed them behind Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Through the doorway that led to the main gymnasium, they could all hear the announcer pumping up the audience, telling them, “Let’s hear it for all the dojos who will be competing at this year’s All-Valley Under-Eighteen Karate Championship! Fighting from Granada Hills, let’s welcome All-Star Karate….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The first group of students lined up at the door jogged out at the call of their team. Miguel, meanwhile, tried his best to avoid the glares of the Cobras while he and his friends passed by them. But he could feel their eyes on him: Kyler, Tory, Robby.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And when he turned around to start the new line, Sensei Kreese was there to greet them. Or, more specifically, Sensei Lawrence. “Here we are, at last, Johnny,” he remarked with a grim smirk, gripping the lapels of his black gi as he was wont to do. “The way it was always meant to be.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And from Topanga,” came the announcer again, “give a round of applause for Topanga Karate!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel frowned, and from down the line, he could see Mr. LaRusso was having a similar talk with Mr. Silver. But he kept his attention on his own Sensei. The tension between him and Kreese was so charged, he was surprised it didn’t ignite sparks of electricity.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let you leave here today a winner,” said Sensei Lawrence, his jaw clenching.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That appeared to amuse Sensei Kreese. “Well, that depends on your students now, doesn’t it?” he asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel took that as his cue to stand up straight behind Sensei Lawrence. And, without hesitation, Robby appeared by Sensei Kreese, arms crossed, locking his eyes back on him. Miguel’s blood began boiling again, and his hands twitched at his sides. He wanted this fight so badly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He felt Sensei’s calming hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention back. But when Miguel looked at him, he caught the way Sensei Lawrence was staring at Robby. He imagined his Sensei was feeling a very different set of emotions than he had seeing Robby wearing the Cobra Kai gi, especially as he stood there at Sensei Kreese’s right-hand side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The announcer’s voice cut through the tension. “…being lead by none other than the ’84 and ’85 All-Valley two-time champion himself, Daniel LaRusso, let’s hear it for Miyagi-Do Karate!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Miyagi-Do made their way into the gymnasium, Sensei Lawrence tore his eyes away from Robby to level them back at Sensei Kreese. “Just make sure you don’t make your kids lower themselves to cheat. You already knocked Hawk out unfairly. Let’s see if you can win even one fight with honor.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“My students will do what they need to do to win,” stated Sensei Kreese, his eyes traveling from Hawk to Miguel. “Because that’s all that matters in the end. And when it comes time for my champion to face yours….” He paused for a moment, laying a hand on Robby’s shoulder like Sensei Lawrence had done for Miguel. “You’ll finally learn your lesson.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing at Sensei Lawrence’s other side, Hawk caught the way Tory had stared at Sensei Kreese as he said that. She looked almost caught off-guard, her eyes settling on her Sensei’s hand where it rested on Robby’s shoulder. But she recovered, and when she noticed Hawk watching her, she scowled back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They were all cut off by the announcer again. “From Reseda, represented now by returning Senseis John Kreese and Terry Silver, we have Cobra Kai! Still a badass name, am I right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“See you on the mats, Johnny,” said Sensei Kreese with a wink, his grim smirk hardening before he turned and joined Mr. Silver to lead his students out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel turned to look at his teacher. “Sensei….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The hand that Sensei Lawrence had resting on his shoulder patted it. “Remember what I told you. Just do your best. Let me worry about everything else.” With that said, he gestured to the door. “Alright, let’s show everyone what our dojo’s made of. Eagles, it’s time to fly!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The announcer called on their team to come out next, and they started their jog into the gymnasium.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Also fighting from Reseda, Johnny Lawrence returns to the All-Valley Tournament this year with a new dojo. Everyone welcome Eagle Fa—” The announcer paused for a second, bringing the card in his hand closer to his eyes for a better examination. Furrowing his eyebrows, he shot Johnny a quick, bewildered look before trying again. “Uh, Eagle Fang Karate! A…unique name for a dojo!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel buried his frustration at that minor bit of shade - a far cry from the respect they’d received when they’d been Cobra kai - while he and his team made their entrance to the sound of applause from the audience. Taking their place at their assigned sideline, Miguel’s eyes swept the crowd. Glancing up at the benches, he spotted his mother and Ya-Ya, who’d found seats for themselves since dropping him off in the parking lot. When they waved at him with encouraging smiles, Miguel flashed a small grin back, along with a chin-jut to acknowledge he’d seen them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing there, eyes on his family, Miguel blocked out the rest of the announcer’s words as he remembered what his mother had told him months prior, the night she’d taken them out for ice-cream.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>You know that even if you don’t win the championship this year, things will be okay.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Letting out a deep breath, Miguel came back to the present when the referee announced the first match of the qualifiers that would be held over on mat one: Miguel Diaz from Eagle Fang versus Doug Rickenberger from Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Go get him, man,” said Hawk, steadying himself on one crutch to give Miguel a firm clap on his shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two boys stepped on the mats, staring at one another with narrowed eyes and determined faces. It was time, Miguel told himself. The first fight. Sensei Lawrence and Mr. LaRusso were right. This was what he had been training for.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re aware of the rules,” the ref reminded them. “Three points wins.” Miguel turned and bowed to the ref when directed, then bowed to Doug when instructed to as well. Then the referee swung his hand down and declared, “Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug launched himself forward with a vicious elbow strike aimed at Miguel’s collarbone, contact he avoided at the last second by pivoting hard to his left. Before Doug could recover, Miguel swung his right hand down and struck him with a hand-chop between his shoulder-blades, striking the Cobra logo on his back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s one point, Diaz,” declared the referee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next round started. Miguel threw a punch at Doug’s chest, only to have it deflected. He had less than a second to bring his own arm down to block his opponent’s follow-up punch. Miguel then wrapped his left leg around Doug’s right, threw himself against the Cobra, tripping his competitor out from under him. He brought his knuckles down hard on Doug’s stomach with a quick hit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two points, Diaz!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Doug’s fists were raised and he bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, scowling at Miguel in the time it took for the referee to give the call to fight. Miguel met his scowl with a determined game face of his own. And when Doug’s fist came straight at him, he was ready.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel rotated his hips, grabbed Doug’s arm with both his hands, shifted his body in front of the Cobra, and flipped him over his shoulder. As soon as his opponent’s back hit the floor, Miguel did an elbow-drop on his gut, driving a loud groan out of the Cobra and earning him his third point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Winner, Diaz from Eagle Fang!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Eagle Fangs erupted in hollers and cheers for Miguel, and Sensei Lawrence pumped his fist. Along with the applause from the audience, including from his mother and grandma, Miguel allowed himself to soak all of their the support and validation. It pumped him up, got the smile on his face to spread wider. He’d almost forgotten how <em>fun</em> a tournament could be.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then he leveled his eyes over at the line of Cobras. Squaring his shoulders back as he walked over and resumed his place with his teammates, Miguel hoped his three-to-zero clean sweep victory sent a loud message to Sensei Kreese: the champion was back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While other matches were going on across the gymnasium, the referee called the next competitor up to mat one. “Samantha LaRusso.” And her opponent was Big Red from Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She expected her adversary to attack first. If nothing else, Cobra Kai was predictive in that way. So she was prepared when he came at her with back-to-back punches, blocking both with switch movements from her arms. And after the second one, she reached her foot out, locked it behind his knee, and twisted it out from under him. Big Red hit the mats, and Sam took a knee fast to strike his chest with her fist, taking her first point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as the referee signaled the next round, Big Red barreled at her, locked his hands around her back, and attempted to throw her down. But Sam reached around and grabbed a handful of his gi, pulling him down with her, rolling over the Cobra. While he was disoriented, Sam kicked the ball of her foot out and made contact with his back with it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two points, LaRusso!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Emboldened now, this time Sam made the first move, launching a front kick at Big Red’s chest, which he deflected with a prompt block from his hands. Then, in the time it took Sam to breathe in, he did a backflip to close the space between them, kicking Sam on the shoulder on his way back to landing on his feet. She hissed, walking back to her spot as the ref gave Big Red the point, rubbing the sore muscle.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You okay, Sam?” asked her father, taking a step toward the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam nodded, gesturing for him to remain where he was. “I’m okay,” she called out. She then caught the looks from both Tory and Robby over on the Cobra Kai sideline. Their eyes made her shiver, feeling like a mouse with a broken paw in front of a couple of snakes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But she wasn’t going to let any of them intimidate her. Taking a deep, calming breath, Sam balled her fists by her waist. And after the referee gave the signal, she rose her arm to block a punch from her opponent when he attacked, and shifted on her feet to avoid a backhanded punch from his other hand. Bid Red spun around and aimed a kick at her front, and she ducked low at the last second, letting his leg fly over her head. She then launched forward, her arm springing from her side, and striking Big Red in his ribs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee exclaimed, “Winner, LaRusso from Miyagi-Do!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And so the qualifying matches commenced. Each team cheered for their friends when they were called up to fight. And all of them kept a careful watch on their rival dojos as each win brought them closer and closer to facing off against one another.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everyone watched when the referee called Kyler to face off against a student from Topanga. It could barely be called a match. Miguel’s eyes remained fixed on Kyler the whole time, watching him practically hop on his feet in anticipation until the referee told them, “Fight!"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then the Cobra struck his prey without hesitation. Kyler swept in, wrapped his arms around his opponent, and body-slammed him to the ground; Miguel noted Kyler still preferred to fight like a wrestler. And a quick elbow pile-drive into the Topanga student’s gut ended the match, leaving him groaning on the mats. An on-purpose mimicry of Miguel’s final win against Doug.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler earned his next two points without any more of a hassle, that first hit had knocked the wind out of his opponent so bad. A complete sweep, just like Miguel had shown during his first fight. And seeing Miguel glaring at him after he earned his way to the next match, Kyler grinned and made a flicking gesture with his hand under his chin, taunting him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory stepped up to the mats when they called her name. Watching as she secured a black headband around her head to keep her hair back, Miguel held his breath as he waited the next few seconds until they announced who her opponent would be. And his eyes widened at hearing them say it would be Nathaniel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Goddammit,” Nate muttered, shaking his head. Even encouraging shoulder pats from Chris and Demetri didn’t give him a boost of confidence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It probably didn’t help much, either, when Sam told him, “Be careful.” She glared at Tory, who met her stare with a smirk of her own.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mr. LaRusso tried to be more reassuring, clapping his hands. “You can do this, Nate. Just remember to concentrate.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From where Miguel, Hawk, Sam, and the others from their dojos were watching, Nate certainly seemed to try. He had his fists up and ready to go when the referee gave the call to fight. And when Tory charged at him, he tucked his elbows in to guard his chest. But Tory soared right past him, and before Nate could even begin to guess what she was doing, she spun around and kicked him on the back, sending him face-down on the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“One point, Nichols!” the referee announced.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nate didn’t fare well during the next round, either. While he blocked Tory’s punch aimed at his shoulder, he wasn’t fast enough to defend himself from her grabbing his gi with her other hand and driving her knee up into his chest, landing her the second point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“C’mon, Nate,” Bert encouraged from the Eagle Fang sideline, looking genuinely troubled by his rival’s lack of good luck. “This next point is yours!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His optimism didn’t translate into reality, however. Because even as Nate ducked and dodged back-to-back kicks with fast and nimble movements, when he tried landing a punch of his own, Tory hit his arm out of the way with her own and struck her leg out again, nailing him in the ribs with her shin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With the score three-to-zero, the referee called it. “Winner, Nichols from Cobra Kai!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel watched while Mr. LaRusso gave Nate a reassuring pat on the back when he returned to his teammates. “It’s okay, Nate.” The other Miyagi-Dos joined in helping their friend feel better. Meanwhile, Tory rejoined her own team, leveling glares between Sam, Hawk, and Miguel on her way to them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The qualifying rounds continued one after the other on the various mats. Members from Miyagi-Do, Eagle Fang, and Cobra Kai each fought and most of them kept winning against the members from the other dojos in the Valley, narrowing down the numbers more and more on the path to the quarterfinals. But it was only when someone from Cobra Kai was eliminated that Mr. LaRusso and Sensei Lawrence seemed especially relieved.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee called up Chris from their group next. His opponent came from All-Star Karate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good luck, Chris!” called out Sam, and the rest of Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang cheered him on as he and the other competitor took their places and did their customary bows.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His opponent opened with a low kick, which Chris lifted his own leg to block. Shifting around, his fists up in a defensive posture, Chris waited for his competitor to come at him again. And when he did, Chris swung around and delivered a high roundhouse kick to the other boy’s collarbone, earning his point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris embodied the strategy of wait-and-attack more than any of the other students in Miyagi-Do, Miguel had noticed. He watched Chris shuffle on his feet, he and his opponent circling each other, and when the student from All-Star at last aimed a kick at his side, Chris grabbed his leg, backflipped him over on the ground, and punched his shoulder, getting the second point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The student from All-Star thought he could pull a similar move when he caught Chris’s leg in the next round. Chris remained sturdy on his other leg long enough to bring his right hand down with a knife-hand punch on his competitor’s exposed shoulder, gaining his victory and Miyagi-Do’s first three-to-zero sweep.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee announced the next competitor. “Robby Keene.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Robby stepped up to the mats, Mitch’s head darted up when the ref called his name next to fight him. Miguel and Hawk both stared at their teammate, noting his uncertain eyes and slightly slackened jaw. All the previous enthusiasm Mitch had shown to have a go at Cobra Kai seemed to vanish. But this was Eagle Fang’s first chance to knock Robby out of the Tournament. He knew what that meant.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before he took a step forward, Mitch looked at Sensei Lawrence. “Sensei…?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence continued to stare at Robby for another moment before telling Mitch, “Give it your best shot. Don’t hold back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Kick his ass, Mitch!” Hawk cheered on, and the rest of Eagle Fang clapped in agreement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When the referee gave the signal, Robby attacked first. Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Robby come at Mitch with a wild windmill kick. Mitch managed to raise his arms in time to block the hit, only for Robby to spin around, drop low and hook his foot around Mitch’s leg. He swept it out from under him, and the second Mitch hit the floor, Robby punched him in his stomach, earning the first point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The second round started, and this time Mitch made the first move. He barreled forward and tried to make a simple grab of Robby to throw him to the ground. Robby shifted fast on his feet, avoiding Mitch’s arms. With quick reflexes, he threw a backhanded punch on the back of Mitch’s shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two points, Keene!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On the sidelines, all the Eagle Fangs were cringing in sympathy, even as they still cheered Mitch on. But Miguel already had a sinking suspicion about what was going to happen next.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In a last-ditch effort to start evening the score, Mitch struck aggressively, coming at Robby with a right punch, and then a left, both of which Robby expertly blocked with his arms. He put Mitch back on the defensive with a straight kick, which Mitch took two great leaps back to avoid.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Mitch raised his fists back up near his face, Robby lowered his guard. Fully prepared to take advantage of this opening, Mitch took his first step to closing the gap. Miguel and Hawk both watched what happened next with worried expressions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Flipping forward, dropping the flat of his right palm to the floor, Robby pushed his entire weight off it, launching his whole body up. He shot his legs out just as Mitch approached him, kicking him straight in the chest, sending the other boy careening backward and falling on his back. The same move Robby had performed during the finals of the previous year.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Winner, Keene from Cobra Kai!” declared the ref.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk saw Sensei Lawrence glare over at where Sensei Kreese stood at the end of the Cobra Kai line while Mitch made his way back to his team, head down. The old man simply shrugged and called out to Sensei Lawrence, “He never was Cobra Kai material.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Like Nate, Mitch had been utterly humiliated. That was the whole point. It was the exact sort of public embarrassment and total disgrace Sensei Kreese wanted to put them through in front of the whole Valley. He wanted to show off his Cobra Kai destroying their enemies and making a mockery of their skills while doing it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good try, Mitch,” assured Hawk. And Miguel gave him a couple of comforting claps on his shoulder as he took his place in their line again, before leveling his own glare back at the Cobra Kai group, back on Robby, who was getting his own shoulder patted by Sensei Kreese in praise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The fights went on. More and more competitors were eliminated from the qualifying matches as the remaining members of Miyagi-Do, Cobra Kai, and Eagle Fang kept advancing. The three dojos combined eliminated the majority of the fighters from All-Star and Topanga. It became more and more clear this had come down to the war between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang. Just as Kreese had wanted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And even as Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do advanced, it didn’t escape any of their notice how Kyler, Tory, and Robby all kept scoring perfect three-pointers in their matches. Even Miguel had been unlucky a couple of times, but Cobra Kai was unstoppable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri’s mouth twisted when the referee announced he would fight next and that he would be facing Mikey from Cobra Kai. He’d lucked out so far, fighting only students from Topanga and All-Star. No doubt after watching Mitch’s defeat, he wasn’t enthusiastic about it finally being his turn to fight someone from that dojo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Heh, easy pickings,” chuckled Mikey when they met on the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri narrowed his eyes, but when the referee gave the signal to fight, he quickly scuttled backward on his feet as Mikey came at him, managing to avoid back-to-back punches by moving faster. But anxiety set in, and he stumbled back one step too far.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The ref blew his whistle, crossing his arms. “Out of bounds!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t just run away from him, Demetri!” yelled Hawk. The stress of performing in a high-stakes tournament aside, he couldn’t watch his friend revert back to bad habits. Not now of all places and all times. Demetri was stronger than that now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On Miyagi-Do’s side, Mr. LaRusso added, “Don’t let him keep you on the defensive. Focus on his attacks, he’ll give you an opening.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Mikey struck first again at the call of the next round. But rather than shuffling back this time when the Cobra came at him with a forward punch, Demetri pivoted around, swinging his right arm out as he did so to nail Mikey’s exposed shoulder. His teammates cheered when the referee announced he’d gained the point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Their cheers were short-lived when Mikey hit Demetri with a windmill kick the next round, evening the score out one-to-one. Demetri was able to recover, however, landing a solid hit on Mikey’s back when he overshot his following attack. Demetri couldn’t hold back his smug smile at being in the lead now, two-to-one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Remember the right arm,” Sensei Kreese called out to his student.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over on the Eagle Fang side, Hawk’s skin went cold at hearing him point that out. Of course Kreese would exploit any weakness. Of course he would. And Hawk watched Demetri’s left hand hover over his right arm while he and Mikey resumed their positions. His friend had heard Kreese, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At the signal, Mikey attacked, going after Demetri with a roundhouse kick. Demetri backed up to let it miss him. And when Mikey followed that up with a straight punch, Demetri’s right arm flew up to block it on reflex.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Without hesitation, Mikey grabbed Demetri’s wrist with his left hand and pivoted around, trying to lock Demetri’s arm behind him. And from where he was watching, Hawk’s breath became caught in his throat, worried Demetri would freeze long enough for Mikey to land a hit on his defenseless back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Instead, Demetri moved fast on his feet, twisting himself around to dislodge Mikey’s hold on his arm, throwing his left fist forward as he spun around, knocking the wind from his opponent when he slammed it into Mikey’s stomach.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hell yes! Go, Demetri!” Hawk exclaimed over the loud shouts and whoops from Miyagi-Do as the referee called Demetri’s third point, advancing his friend to the next level of the Tournament.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And so the matches continued on, fight after fight, until they narrowed it down to seven who would be proceeding to the quarterfinals: Robby, Tory, and Kyler from Cobra Kai; Sam, Demetri, and Chris from Miyagi-Do; and Miguel from Eagle Fang.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Finally, it was down to the final match of the qualifying rounds, the one that would determine who would be the eighth competitor: Bert from Eagle Fang versus Dieter from Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bullshit!” objected Hawk, slamming the tip of his left crutch down on the ground in exasperation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence didn’t look happy about it, either. The height difference between the two put Bert at an even greater disadvantage than his previous year’s competition. Miguel watched his Sensei glare over at Sensei Kreese and Mr. Silver again, who were laughing at the situation. But, being unable to do anything about it, Sensei Lawrence gave Bert an encouraging slap on the back. “Alright, show him what you’re made of.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’d really think they’d have a height and weight division in a tournament like this,” observed Demetri from where he stood at the end of the Miyagi-Do line.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once Bert and Dieter did their bows and got into position, the referee gave the call. “Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert kept his fists raised and elbows tucked in when Dieter attacked. The Cobra launched his leg up, sweeping it right over Bert’s head, with him having barely ducked out of the way. For a hopeful second, his teammates wondered if he might not end up with some advantage after all. Only for Dieter to drive his foot back between Bert’s shoulder-blades, sending the boy face-first to the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel, Hawk, and Mitch all cringed, and Sensei Lawrence ran his hands down his face in aggravation while Bert picked himself up and took his position again. “It’s okay, Bert, you got this!” Sensei called out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It turned out, in fact, he did not. Bert managed to raise his arms to block a hand-chop Dieter threw down at his head, but that left his stomach exposed. The Cobra drove his knee up into it, getting an easy second point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the sidelines, the Eagles groaned. “C’mon, Bert!” yelled Hawk, seeing the dejection on Bert’s face. “What happened to all that training? When your opponent kicks your ass, get up and dish it back!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Adjusting his glasses, Bert knitted his eyebrows together, and he gave a firm nod in Hawk’s direction. Putting on his game face, he resumed his fighting position.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Raising his fists and leveling his harsh glower at Dieter, Bert warned him, “Prepare to feel what it’s like to be bitten by an Eagle, shitbreath.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When the next round began, all the Eagles tensed when Dieter came at Bert with a low punch. But, like a flip had been switched, Bert’s hands flew up to catch his opponent’s arm. And with a quick, firm movement, he jerked Dieter’s arm down, pulling him closer, and kicked his shin into the Cobra’s ribs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When the referee gave the point to Bert, the looks on the faces of those on the Cobra Kai sideline said it all. Sensei Kreese in particular had an expression Hawk wished he could have framed. None of them had expected <em>that</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Having lost his chance at a perfect win, Dieter opened the next round with an aggressive front kick. Bert scuttled backward to avoid it and held his hands out to block the next one. On the third try, Bert successfully grabbed Dieter’s ankle and then pulled his leg out. The Cobra hobbled, trying to maintain his balance, but Bert tugged as hard as he could back, bringing his opponent down. And before Dieter could sit back up, Bert slammed his foot down on his chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright!” Sensei Lawrence pumped his fist harder, and Eagle Fangs cheered louder than ever to encourage their teammate. Mitch even grabbed Miguel in an anxious hug. The tension was now at its peak. It was two-to-two. The next point would decide the winner.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Dieter twisted around, lifting his leg for a roundhouse kick, Bert pivoted at the same time. And all of Eagle Fang watched wide-eyed as Dieter’s foot flew harmlessly over Bert’s body, while his high kick landed on Dieter’s collarbone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes! Yes! That’s how you do it!” Hawk screamed in celebration.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When the referee raised Bert’s arm and declared him the winner of his match, the Eagle Fangs lost their minds at their friend’s come-from-behind victory. Miguel wouldn’t be going into the next phase alone, he was going to have one of his teammates with him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Sensei Kreese and Mr. Silver looked upon Dieter in disgust as he trudged back to their side, the Eagles crowded around Bert, each clapping him on the back, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, or ruffling his hair to congratulate him on making it to the quarterfinals.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sensei Lawrence met Sensei Kreese’s cold stare as he reminded his students, “Good work, you guys. Now let’s show Cobra Kai why Eagles are the only animal that can kill a snake.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Satisfaction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Miguel loosened the muscles in his shoulders as he stepped on the mats, meeting up with Chris in their designated spots. According to the bracket board, they had been selected to be the first match in the quarterfinals. Miguel had hoped he would get the chance to eliminate a Cobra Kai before he had to face someone from Miyagi-Do, but there was no helping it. They didn’t get to choose who they fought.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good luck,” said Miguel, jutting his chin out at Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Same,” replied Chris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two bowed to the ref when instructed, then to each other, and got in formation. Miguel raised his fists up near his jaw, while Chris kept his flexed by his sides. The referee swung his hand down, giving the signal. “Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Normally Miguel would have attacked first in a scenario like the one he was in now. But he’d spent months observing the fighting styles of the other guys from both Eagle Fang and Miyagi-Do. They’d trained together, he’d learned their preferences, the way they liked to battle. And he’d just gotten a refresher on Chris’s in the qualifying matches. He would wait. Miguel knew he would have to be careful and work around someone who favored defense as heavily as Chris did.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The two of them circled one other, staring each other in the eyes, keeping their fists where they were, waiting for the other to strike first. Miguel tried to block out his teammates’ cheers from the sideline, where they were urging him to attack. It was taking everything he had to be patient and wait for Chris to come to him, especially with everyone’s eyes on him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And feeling the sheer force of those gazes locked on his every footstep, Miguel started to second-guess himself. After all, they couldn’t keep circling each other all day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Going against his instincts, which told him to wait, Miguel finally went for it. Shuffling forward to close the gap, he pivoted hard on his hip and raised his leg, aiming his foot at his opponent’s chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris lifted his knee to block Miguel’s kick. Miguel followed up with a punch at his ribs, but Chris swept out his right hand to knock it out of the way and reached out with his left hand to grab Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel found himself dragged in closer as Chris rammed his knee into his stomach, earning the first point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel cursed under his breath, feeling his face heat up while he and Chris resumed their places. Chancing a quick glance over at the Eagle Fangs, he saw Sensei Lawrence wince, even as he clapped and called out, “It’s okay, Diaz, you’ll recover.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing beside Sensei Lawrence, Hawk said, “Miguel, make him come to you!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Clenching his jaw, Miguel nodded once and turned back around, getting in position. Hawk must have noticed his mistake, too. He wouldn’t ignore his instincts again. Now he had a plan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel took a stride forward as if he was about to attack, and Chris immediately raised his arms on reflex to counter him. Miguel faked him out, ducked back around to his left, bringing his fists down to his sides, exposing himself to attack.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Chris took the bait, extended his arm out to punch him on his chest. Before Chris’s fist could make contact, Miguel’s left arm shot up to deflect it. He then flung his right hand across to deliver a solid punch to Chris’s chest instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“One point, Diaz!” announced the referee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A smirk curled around the corner of Miguel’s mouth. And judging by Chris’s expression, his opponent must have figured out his wait-and-attack strategy wasn’t going to work on him as it did against the other competitors during the qualifying matches.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next round started, and Miguel opened with a flying kick. Rather than duck, Chris threw his arms up to block it, and Miguel spun around to come at him with a windmill kick this time. Chris had to stumble back to avoid the attack, and Miguel continued with his onslaught with an ax-kick this time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Chris managed to leap out of the way again to dodge the move. And now seeing what Miguel’s ruthless strategy was going to be, Chris moved on the offense in an attempt to get Miguel to stop his barrage of attacks. They both hit each other’s knees when trying to kick at the same time, and Chris recovered first to launch a fist at Miguel’s chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel ducked, grabbed Chris’s extended arm, and flipped him over his shoulder. When Chris landed flat on his stomach, Miguel got his second point with a swift punch to Chris’s back. Now it was two-to-one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At the referee’s word, Chris took a step forward and Miguel shifted back, changing up his strategy again. Chris took another step, this time following it up with a straight kick. Miguel raised his left knee to block it and countered with a punch from his right arm. Chris knocked it out of the way with his left hand, exposing his shoulder.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel reacted, kicking his right leg out and aiming his foot at Chris’s shoulder. His opponent raised his left arm to not only stop it but also catch and grab Miguel’s ankle. Shuffling a couple of steps back his feet, Chris yanked hard on the leg and Miguel fell to the ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As soon as Chris released his ankle to attack him, Miguel rolled over on the mats before his competitor could land his hit. He had just enough time to get up on his knees and raise one arm to block Chris’s hand-chop, and then swing his other fist around to nail Chris on his vulnerable side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel stood up, a tired grin plastered on his face, and the announcer grabbed his arm and raised it, declaring, “Winner, Miguel Diaz from Eagle Fang Karate!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once the announcer released him, Miguel, still smiling, extended his hand down to Chris, helping pull the Miyagi-Do student back on his feet. “Good match,” he congratulated, giving Chris a quick pat on the shoulder. At least this had been a fun match, in a way a fight with any of the Cobras could never be. It was what the entire Tournament <em>should</em> have been like, in a better universe.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, man,” returned Chris, giving him a fist-bump. “I’ll beat you next time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And with that, they both made their way back to their respective sides to rejoin their teammates.</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next match according to the bracket board was between Bert and Kyler. To say the Eagle Fangs were frustrated that Bert was yet again matched against someone much taller than him would have been an understatement. Sensei Lawrence even muttered under his breath about it being Kreese’s fault somehow, he was sure it had to be a conspiracy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nevertheless, Bert had no choice but to face his opponent. And while Miguel, Hawk, Mitch, and all of Eagle Fang clapped for him, he tried putting on his game face to show he wasn’t intimidated. But Kyler just snickered, raising his fists when the ref told them to get in their assigned spots.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler leaped into action, spinning around and coming down on Bert with a flying ax-kick. Bert had to hop out of the way to avoid having Kyler’s heel strike down on his head. He countered with his own high kick once Kyler had both feet back on the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In a flash, Kyler deflected Bert’s kick with a flick of his hand. He then leaned closer, grabbed his right arm, shifted his right leg against Bert’s own to destabilize his balance, and then threw the Eagle to the ground. A quick foot stomp to Bert’s chest landed him the first point of the match.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert’s teammates all cringed from where they were watching it happen. “Shit,” muttered Miguel under his breath, flexing his fists at his sides as he could only watch while Kyler laughed when Bert had to pick himself off the ground and rub a hand over where Kyler had struck him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t let him intimidate you, Bert,” called out Hawk. “He’s nothing, you got this!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kyler laughed again, unimpressed by the rally of support for Bert, telling him, “You don’t got shit, loser.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The second round began. Kyler came at Bert with a front kick to his chest, which Bert threw out his hands to push back. Kyler then tried to grab him, but Bert moved nimbly on his feet, circling around the Cobra to avoid his grasp. Kyler retaliated by swinging a roundhouse kick around, nailing Bert faster than he could defend himself this time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“One more point,” said Kyler, sneering down at Bert when the boy picked himself off the ground. “I’m gonna sweep the floor with your ass and keep up my perfect score while doing it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert responded by adjusting his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They started the third round, and Kyler didn’t hesitate to come in strong. Wrapping his arms around Bert, Kyler picked him up and flipped him over like a rag doll. However, as he was being thrown down, Bert wrapped his left leg between Kyler’s, and when his right foot landed on the mat he was able to drive himself up with enough momentum to throw Kyler off his balance, bringing him down with him. The two of them rolled on top of each other, and as they tried untangling themselves, Bert’s glasses were knocked off in the process. But Bert was able to free himself first and slam his fist on Kyler’s chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Eagle Fangs all perked up and erupted in cheers. And Miguel wondered if this might not be the start of another miraculous, come-from-behind victory for their teammate.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That hope cooled for Miguel when he watched Kyler loom threateningly over Bert and scowl at him. “You’re gonna pay for that point, bitch,” Kyler warned him, making it a point to crush Bert’s glasses under the heel of his foot as he walked back to his spot.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Screw you, Kyler!” yelled Hawk, and Miguel had to grab his shoulder when he hobbled a step towards with the mats with his crutches to calm him down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Boo! Pussy move!” Mitch jeered.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Over with the Miyagi-Dos, Nate groaned. “I told him he should’ve switched to contacts.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Miguel turned to Sensei Lawrence. “Sensei, you gotta do something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Frowning in frustration, Sensei Lawrence gestured with his hands and yelled, “Time out!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert returned to their side with his broken frames in his hands, holding them up to his face to show how the lenses had been cracked. And as Sensei Lawrence ran up to the referee, with Sensei Kreese stepping in to back his student up, Miguel and Hawk and all the Eagles could only watch helplessly as Kyler shrugged and defended himself by saying, “It was an accident, how was I supposed to know his glasses were there?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Things weren’t any more optimistic when, after a heated argument, Sensei Lawrence came back to them and delivered the referee’s verdict. “They’re saying if you don’t got a backup pair, then you either gotta fight or forfeit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“My spare pair’s at home,” said Bert. All the Eagles groaned, and Sensei Lawrence ran his hands down his face. But, pocketing his broken glasses, Bert declared, “It’s okay, I’ll still finish the fight. I’m not giving up like a pussy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hawk smirked, nudging Bert’s shoulder with his elbow. “Hell yeah, man!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Go get him, Bert,” encouraged Miguel. He and the others, as well as everyone from Miyagi-Do, clapped for Bert as their teammate stepped back on the mats to face his opponent, now at an even worse disadvantage than before.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Bert raised his fists and waited for the referee to give the signal. And once he received it, with nothing more to lose, he launched himself at Kyler. Squinting hard, he flung his fists with one punch after another, pushing Kyler farther and farther back on the mat, all the way to the edge of the boundary. Hawk and Miguel both watched in anticipation, realizing Bert was backing the Cobra into a corner.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Kyler figured out his intention, as well. And like a snake that had been cornered, he bit back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He took one more step backward to avoid Bert’s straight kick. And when the Eagle threw another punch at him, Kyler grabbed Bert’s wrist and pulled his arm out. He wrapped his other hand across the nape of Bert’s neck and shoved the boy down, driving him to meet the knee he pulled up at the same time, ramming it firmly into Bert’s stomach.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once the referee announced the final win for Kyler, he let go, allowing Bert to drop to the mats. And for a minute, Bert laid there, arms wrapped around his gut and groaning. Miguel, Hawk, and Mitch watched helplessly from the sidelines, concerned, while Sensei Lawrence rushed out to check on their teammate. And they all let out a collective sigh of relief when Sensei helped Bert get back on his feet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You did great, man,” Hawk reassured Bert once he’d limped back to the group</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While everyone reassured Bert that he’d still acted like a total badass, especially with everything that had been stacked against him, Miguel narrowed his eyes at the Cobras where they stood across the mats on their side. Kyler already had him in his sight and flashed another rude gesture with his arms his way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So, it would come down to a fight between them again, this time in the semifinals. But Miguel was glad about that. He would ten times rather have kicked Kyler’s ass in front of an audience to earn his way to the finals than to fight his own teammate for the honor.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll get him back for you, Bert,” Miguel promised. “For all of us.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">With two matches of the quarterfinals down, there were still two to go. And the referee announced the next fighters: Demetri from Miyagi-Do versus Tory from Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Having watched while Kyler took care of Bert, Tory frowned at the bracket board. This wasn’t the fight she had been hoping for after they announced everyone who’d made it to the quarterfinals. She’d hoped, more than anyone, to be paired against Sam, but whoever was in charge of picking the fights decided to give Robby that honor instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, she was stuck fighting the lanky nerd. Why was she wasting her skills by having to pick off the weaklings? Her talents were so much greater than this. She deserved a real opportunity to prove herself and a real chance to get even with the fighters who’d actually made her life miserable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the Eagle Fang sideline, she heard Hawk call out in encouragement, “Go kick ass, Demetri!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory kept her sight set on her opponent while they stepped on the mats together and walked closer to each other to meet in the middle. Demetri’s unsure expression hardened as he narrowed his eyes and frowned at her. And, squaring his shoulders back a little, he said, “You’re gonna pay for busting Eli’s kneecap.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory scoffed, although part of her wanted to laugh at Demetri’s paltry attempts to sound like a badass. But even if she didn’t laugh, she couldn’t resist grabbing the knife he’d brought to the fight and twist it back in him. “I thought you were supposed to have his back?” she remarked, arching an eyebrow. “Some friend, I guess.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That hit its mark, judging by how Demetri’s shoulders slumped and his frown twitched. And before Demetri could get another word in, the referee told them to take their spots, giving Tory the last word for now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They did their quick bows, neither one of them putting in more than the bare minimum effort to make a small lean towards the other. It was unsportsmanlike conduct, for sure, but Tory didn’t care. Demetri didn’t like her, and she didn’t respect him. They were at least on the same page in that department.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then the referee told them, “Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory swung around in a quick spin kick, aiming to finish this fight as soon as possible. Demetri ducked fast and even managed to avoid her next roundhouse kick with some impressive reflexes. But that was all the credit Tory was prepared to give her opponent. Because after he blocked her next punch, she changed her tactic, giving him an open to attack. And he took the bait.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tory intercepted Demetri’s punch he’d been aiming at her ribs, like a snake snatching a mouse. Grabbing his arm with her left hand and passing it tuck under her own right arm, she exposed Demetri’s back for an easy attack. She drove her left knee up and hit the bonsai tree stitched on his gi.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s one point, Nichols!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While she resumed her spot, Tory saw both Sensei Kreese and Mr. Silver nod at her for getting the first point. She knew they expected her to win this match thoroughly and swiftly. This wasn’t the fight they wanted to make a spectacle of. Demetri wasn’t the symbol of Miyagi-Do like Sam was, nor was he the champion like Miguel. So her match meant nothing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, she could hear Demetri’s friends cheering him on, both from Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang. They had to know he was going to lose, so what was the point of the charade?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She clenched her fists by her sides, the sounds of their support tightening the muscles in her shoulders. They were annoying her, especially Hawk. She remembered how it wasn’t so long ago that she and the other Cobras were cheering him on to finish his fight with Demetri and snap his arm. And he’d done it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Now he was here, rooting for that same wimp while he fought against a much stronger opponent. It was unbelievable how far Hawk had fallen since he turned traitor. A complete joke. She would have to show him there was no point wasting his breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The next round started. Demetri still didn’t attack first. Typical Miyagi-Do. So Tory came in, going after her opponent with a couple of token-effort punches. She expected him to block them. She wanted to lure him into attacking. Enough of that holier-than-thou defense-only bullshit from the Miyagi-Dos. If Demetri was actually serious about getting revenge for his friend, why didn’t he act like it?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After he avoided a high kick, Demetri finally shot his arm out to punch her. Tory shifted her feet so she stepped behind him, avoiding Demetri’s fist. She reached out lightning-fast to grab the back of his gi and gave a strong yank, dragging Demetri down backward. She chopped her hand down on Demetri’s collarbone before letting him fall to his back on the mats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee called out, “Two points, Nichols!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Demetri picked himself back up, and Tory could tell by the reaction on his face that the predicament he’d found himself in was starting to really sink in. And a part of her almost hoped he would surprise her in the next few seconds by turning things around. To make things at least interesting.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because this? This was boring. Where was she to get satisfaction beating someone like Demetri?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had spent months training for the Tournament, and was this all she could expect from it? Because this felt as hollow as it had been taking out Hawk. And that wasn’t fair. Her Senseis had told her she would redeem Cobra Kai by making Hawk pay for betraying them, and that she would get the contentment that came from being a winner by doing it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But try as she might, she never got that satisfaction they said she would. Seeing Hawk on the ground, hugging his knee close, then crying like a baby when Robby cut his hair, none of it made her feel like a real winner. Nor was she feeling like one now, making a fool of Demetri.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">How was this making her life better?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gritting her teeth, Tory attacked. Demetri dodged her opening kick with a quick duck, and raised his elbow in time to block her punch that followed. Demetri avoided a spin kick again, and this time tried going for an open, aiming his knuckles at her shoulder. Tory knocked his arm out of its path and with a quick, sharp twist of her hips, slammed her elbow against Demetri’s jaw.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Winner, Tory Nichols from Cobra Kai!” announced the referee.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Cobra Kai’s claps drowned out the disappointed groans coming from the students in Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang, Tory shook her head. She stared at Demetri, who had raised a hand to wipe the trickle of blood that was dripping from the split-lip she’d given him with her last hit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">So she’d beaten him. It was a given. So why didn’t she feel the satisfaction of being a winner?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because Demetri meant nothing to her. Beating him did nothing to get back at the universe for ruining her life. She wouldn’t get her redemption until she faced either Sam or Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Tory’s brows furrowed, realizing the next round would have Robby fighting Sam. The universe had taken the satisfaction of beating her and given it to Robby, who Tory was sure would win. Which meant now her only shot at redeeming herself would be by facing Miguel. The boy who’d cheated on her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And Demetri had been nothing more than a stepping stone on the path to facing the champion.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So much for making me pay,” she remarked to Demetri with another scoff before turning around and making her way over to rejoin her team. “Pathetic.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After they had first set up the brackets on the massive board, Sam had initially felt a weight fall off her shoulders when she saw she and Tory had not been matched up. But the tension piled right back on her muscles again when it showed she would instead be fighting Robby.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She and Miguel had shared a glance, and she could imagine what Miguel must have been feeling. It was within her power now to knock the top fighter out of Cobra Kai.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But then her gaze met Robby’s from his side of the mats and that made her gut clench. She couldn’t place the look on his face as he stared at her after the announcement had been made, no matter how hard she tried to read it. Conflicted? Upset? Resolved?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had no trouble recognizing Tory’s expression, however, when her eyes had fallen on her rival’s face. It was written on it as clear as day. Tory was furious that Robby was getting to fight her, when no doubt she wanted that opportunity for herself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And judging by how Tory looked like she was almost ready to argue with her Senseis over it, it meant she did not foresee a scenario where she and Sam would face each other in the semifinals. Narrowing her eyes, Sam wanted to yell out to Tory and tell her she would have her turn, but first that would mean beating Robby. And that was the only reason Tory was angry: she was already sure Robby was going to beat her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam, are you alright?” asked her father, staring at her with clear worry etched into his features.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gathering her resolve, Sam nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry, Dad, I’m ready.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That was a lie. She wasn’t ready to face Robby. She didn’t <em>want</em> to fight Robby. And as she stepped on the mats and met him in the middle, she kept hoping he would finally make the right choice and step away from Cobra Kai, before it was too late.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Standing at the center of the mats, Sam continued to study Robby’s face. She noticed the slight furrow of his brow, the way he had trouble maintaining eye contact with her, how the corners of his mouth twitched. And, for a moment, Sam held a bit of hope.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tory tells me you and Miguel aren’t seeing each other anymore,” said Robby.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam blinked, trying to register what he was really trying to say. She guessed Tory must have found out that news somehow. “That’s right,” she replied. There wasn’t enough time to go into things deeper than that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby’s eyebrows furrowed deeper, looking almost hurt, even as his mouth stretched into a firm, thin line. “Good to know we all ruined each other’s lives for no reason then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It didn’t take much to read between the lines of what he was saying now. And at that moment, Sam pitied Robby. Because she knew if she and Miguel hadn’t kissed each other at Moon’s party, the school fight never would have happened, and Robby never would have been sent to juvie. And they wouldn’t be ready to fight each other now for the future of the Valley.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But no matter how much she hadn’t intended to hurt Robby by that kiss, it had happened, as had everything that followed. And Sam knew that action must have played some part in Robby joining Cobra Kai. And now here Robby was, having to face the fact that she wasn’t even seeing the boy she had cheated on him for.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam wanted to say something, to go into the reasons why things between her and Miguel hadn’t lasted. She wanted to explain that they weren’t able to make things work <em>because</em> of their unresolved feelings for how they’d hurt Robby…and Tory…in the process of trying to rekindle what they’d had before. There had been too much guilt over their respective ex and too much animosity towards the other’s.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If nothing else, wouldn’t Robby at least get some satisfaction from that?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam wanted to tell him these things, but the referee ordered them to bow to him and then to each other. And the time for talking was over.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby launched a high kick at her, swinging it down on Sam’s left side. She pushed it out of the way with a raise of her arm, and shifted her hips to bring her knee up. Robby blocked it from hitting his gut with his hands. Sam followed up with a round kick from her opposite leg, which Robby ducked to avoid, too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He tried to punch her with his left fist, which her arm flew up to block. She also blocked his attempt to lean in with his right elbow and try to hit her collarbone. Sam then countered, spinning around to deliver an elbow-jab herself. Robby’s hand shot out and grabbed Sam’s right elbow and twisted her around so he could deliver a firm punch to her back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“One point, Keene!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam hissed under her breath, discreetly rolling her right shoulder. It was still sore from Big Red’s kick from the qualifying matches, and when Robby twisted her arm, it had probably inflamed the muscles there more. But she kept her expression as neutral as she could. Robby was a Cobra now. She couldn’t reveal any more weakness to him than she already had.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She knew Cobra Kai’s style by now. If she let him, Robby would take control of the fight and relentlessly attack. So when the referee started the next round, she opened with an aggressive windmill kick. Robby only narrowly avoided it by stumbling backward on his feet. He brought his arms up in time to safeguard his chest from Sam’s foot when she spun around and kicked him again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gritting his teeth, her opponent went on the offensive, coming at her with first a high punch and then a low, both of which Sam deflected. And when Robby tried punching her side, Sam moved her right arm out to hit Robby’s harmlessly out of the way, and at the same time hooked her right foot around his left knee as he moved in, tripping him. She struck her fist against the Cobra on his his back, gaining a point, and evening the score.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“One point, LaRusso!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Her friends in Miyagi-Do clapped for her, of course. So did Eagle Fang. And while Sam flashed a small smile at Miguel as he cheered her on, she was surprised to see even Hawk was rooting for her. Whether that was simply because he hated Robby or because they’d gotten civil enough with each other that he wouldn’t wish for her to lose, Sam wasn’t sure. And she guessed it didn’t really matter his motivation. He still wanted to see her win, which was something she’d never thought she’d see.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam aimed for a high punch at Robby’s shoulder. His left arm made a rolling motion down that she had just enough time to recognize as the wax-off move her father had taught him. It allowed him to push her arm out of the way so he could shift his right leg in the gap between her feet, wrap his right arm across her collarbone, and push her to the mats. She tried bringing her arms up to defend herself but wasn’t fast enough to block his ax-kick.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two points, Keene!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Taking in a deep, calming breath, Sam tried to keep focus. Was Robby trying to psyche her out back there by fighting Miyagi-Do style, she wondered? If so, that wasn’t going to work. She knew Mr. Miyagi’s style better than any of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They started the next round. Robby aimed a left kick high at her, landing his foot back on the mat and lunging forward toward Sam when she backed up to avoid being hit. He struck out his right arm, and she flung up her left one to block it, countering with a right punch herself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Robby deflected with a gesture Sam identified as sand-the-floor right off the bat. She countered his next hit with the same move. They were practically in sync with their attacks, blocks, and counters; for a brief moment, Sam recounted how they had trained together on the balance wheel, how well they’d come to fight together. With flicks of her wrist, she blocked Robby’s subsequent two punches, and then threw him off with a swift kick from her left leg, hitting Robby in his right side with her shin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two points, LaRusso!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Whoops and hollers were coming from all three sides now, Cobra Kai, Miyagi-Do, and Eagle Fang, everyone cheering on their respective teammate. But at that moment, Sam could only concentrate on her own breathing, on the blood pounding in her ears, on the reality that it was two-to-two now. The next round would decide the winner.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Finish her!” shouted Sensei Kreese. “Destroy Miyagi-Do!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam watched Robby give a quick glance at his Sensei from over his shoulder, before turning back around. He stared past Sam, at the Miyagi-Do sideline, where Sam imagined he was making eye contact with her father. Then he turned his sight on his own dad, where Sensei Lawrence was standing beside Miguel and the Eagle Fangs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Narrowing his eyes again, Sam caught Robby’s green eyes when they looked back at her. They both kept their gazes on each other while they raised their fists and got back on position.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee gave the final signal. “Fight!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Both of them circled each other for a few seconds, fists raised and poised, ready to strike, staring at one another like they dared their opponent to make the first move.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And it was Robby who broke eye contact first, shooting his left arm out to try and nail Sam’s right shoulder. She raised her right arm to deflect it, then hastily lowered it down to block Robby’s next attack from his right fist. Grabbing Robby’s wrist, Sam twisted it around and over her shoulder, flipping Robby over. His back hit the mats and Sam dropped to her knees to deliver the final blow.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Only to have Robby block her with his own knee, pushing her off. While Sam scrambled to stand up, Robby rolled over back on his knees. With him so exposed, Sam swung her right hand down with a chopping motion, aiming for his collarbone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But Robby jumped back on his feet in time to dodge. He hit her next two punches out of the way, back to back. Then, he reached out and grabbed Sam’s right shoulder. Robby yanked <em>hard</em>, tossing her over his own shoulder, throwing her to the mats. A sharp pain tore through her muscles there, and Sam cried out, unable to even think of defending herself before Robby punched her in the side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While Robby stood up to the sound of erupting cheers from his fellow Cobras, Sam stayed crouched on the ground, cradling her right shoulder close, whimpering in pain.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam….”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She thought she heard Robby say her name. She squinted her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to face the possibility that this was his payback for hurting him, for cheating on him, for getting back with Miguel, for not putting in enough effort to maintain contact during his stint at juvie. Worse, she didn’t want to admit that, from the sound of his voice, maybe, just maybe, he regretted what he’d just done.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sam!” That time it was her father yelling, and in a hot second he was kneeling beside her on the mats, even as the ref raised Robby’s arm high in the air.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The referee yelled, “Winner, Robby Keene from Cobra Kai!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Sam hissed when her father laid his hand on her hurt shoulder. The sting brought tears to her eyes. Not only the pain from the inflamed muscles, but also the bitter sting of defeat. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she apologized as he gently helped her to her feet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh honey, no, don’t apologize,” he told her. “Let’s get you to the first-aid station, come on.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hunching her right shoulder, Sam allowed her father to lead her off the mats and towards the station where her injury could be checked out. She did everything in her power to avoid looking at Robby. Instead, as she passed by the Eagle Fangs, she stared at Miguel.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry, Miguel,” she told him, ignoring her dad’s insistence that she didn’t need to apologize. Because she <em>was</em> sorry. She was sorry for playing her part in this whole thing spiraling as out of control as it had. And she was sorry now because, with her defeat, Miyagi-Do was out of the All-Valley Tournament. Miguel was the only person standing between Kreese’s Cobra Kai and a victory. Everything, including the future of Miyagi-Do, rested squarely on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>